It's Time to Pay Up, Quinnie
by nooneknowsmyname
Summary: Quinn endures the consequences of losing a bet.  Rachel's sure to add her own Berry twist to the deal.  Rated M for upcoming chapters...
1. And If You Win?

**A/N #1: Welcome to my first attempt at *ahem* smut *cough.* This will be a 5-chapter fic. If you feel so moved, press the little Review button at the bottom. If not, so be it! Enjoy…**

**A/N #2: I do not own these characters. Sadly, all I own are the mistakes.**

Chapter 1: "And If You Win?"

I knew I never should have made the bet with my girlfriend of six months in the first place. I also knew I would have to endure whatever she had planned for me, seeing as that I lost the bet. As I walked up to her front door, I attempted to mentally prepare myself for whatever would be happening tonight.

Whether or not I like to admit it, Rachel's right most of the time, especially when it comes to movies and musicals. What, on Earth, was I thinking? I pressed the doorbell and my inner voice mocked me by sing-songing, "Stu-pid, stu-pid…" to rhythm of the chimes.

It was last Saturday night after the Regional's competition senior year; she and I were watching _Jennifer's Body_. As the movie began, she had a stern concentration etched into her brow and continued watching with a determination in her gaze, like she was trying to solve a puzzle. About a third of the way through the movie, she cried out, "AAAGGHH, I know where I've seen her!"

I looked from her to the screen and then back to her again. "What are you talking about, Rach?"

"Quinn, don't you recognize her? She's the daughter from _Mamma Mia!_" She jumped up off the bed and danced around pumping her fists in the air. She turned to me once more, grinning smugly. "I knew I recognized her, and lo and behold she's the very talented singer that played opposite of Meryl Streep in the 2008 big screen adaptation of the fabulous musical set to the classical stylings of the timeless group, ABBA. That means, "papa," by the way."

At that point, I could only look on, wondering if she formulated that answer using skillful craftsmanship with an attention to detail, or if her mind just naturally rants in over-informative statements of useless information. Either way, I was pretty sure that "Needy" wasn't the girl who sang "Honey, Honey" in that movie. I just couldn't picture it.

"Rachel, I don't think that's the same girl. I think this is the girl from _Havoc_. You know, the one with Anne Hathaway? I have a hard time believing that the actress from _Mamma Mia!_ would play this part."

She stopped and trained her eyes on me. I should have backed down then. I knew what that look meant. She slowly advanced on me, and as she invaded my personal space, I knew I was a goner. She placed her hands gingerly on my shoulders, leaned down painfully slowly, and ghosted her lips over my ear as she whispered, "Wanna bet?"

I licked my lips and, Grilled Cheesus, help me, if those two words weren't the sexiest damn words in the English language. She pulled back, keeping her face even with mine. Looking at my lips, she asked me again, "Quinnie, I said, 'Do you wanna bet?'"

This woman was sure to be the death of me. I felt fairly confident in the observation I made. I could swear that wasn't the same girl. So, in my blind ignorance, I ground out, "Terms?"

She smiled wickedly and began outlining the conditions of our wager.

"Well, if you win, I will promise to refrain from interrupting the next three movies of your choosing, only speaking when told to do so. I know how much you hate when I go on and on during a movie." The irony is that our current movie was still playing, completely forgotten about as our exchange played out. "Plus…" she continued, to my surprise, "I'll let you have a turn with the toy box."

When she said "toy box," my breathing instantly quickened and my eyes widened, immediately filling with shock and want. Images flooded my brain, while a certain wet heat flooded my core. What most people didn't know was that Rachel was a bit of kink and a lot of a top. She mostly dominated our bedroom activities, not that I was complaining… at all. It was just unusual that she would offer that control. I should've folded right then. She wouldn't have wagered that without being 100% sure she was right.

Unable to shake the visions swirling in my mind and the wetness swirling at my center, I urged her to continue, "And if you win?" I asked with a shaky voice.

She briefly paused, as I could clearly see the gears working in her gray matter. And like a wild beast cornering its prey, she ran her tongue across her lips as an evil smirk appeared on her face. She let out a condescending chuckle, and finished explaining the terms.

"If I win, Quinnie, our next three movie nights will be spent watching _Funny Girl_. Each night of which will include you performing a _personal_ interpretation of one of three _very_ _special_ musical selections from the soundtrack. What do you say?"

I weighed the terms. I didn't like the inflections she made on the words, "personal" and "very special." Really, though, how bad could it be watching _Funny Girl_ three more times and singing a few songs? Any risk was worth taking for a chance to get my hands "dirty" so-to-speak in the toy box.

"Deal." And there it was, my fate for the next three weeks sealed in a four-letter word.

Five minutes later, I cursed the Internet database that made it so easy to search for movies and actors. Damn the convenience of technology. Of course Rachel was still gloating about her victory as she flitted around the room, happy she had won once again. I was Quinn fucking Fabray. Didn't that mean I would win at least some of the time?

As the movie credits rolled in the background, I sighed with disappointment at not seeing the rest of the film and losing the bet. Nevertheless, I pulled myself from Rachel's bed and grabbed my girlfriend's hand to say goodbye properly.

"I know, I know, Rach, you won. I get it. I will keep up my end of the deal, but it's near midnight and you know my mom will literally send out the search and rescue team if I'm late. Some shit about the 'witching hour.'" I chuckled, and continued, "I'll call you tomorrow." I kissed her gently, hoping that my tenderness would show her my willingness to concede in our wager and earn me a bit of mercy.

"Mmm… kissing me like that, Ms. Fabray will not earn an ounce of pity from me, just so you know." Damn, that woman knew me better than I thought. "But kiss me again anyways."

She smiled sexily and with her "I'm-playing-innocent-but-I-want-you-to-do-naughty-things-to-me" look in her doe eyes (hey, it's a big description, but Rach always says I need to be more expressive…), she stretches on her tiptoes once more and connects our lips. I couldn't stop the low moan that rolled over my tongue and through her lips. The taste of her was like my ambrosia and kryptonite all at once. She had the most sensual technique and for the love of everything holy, the things she could do with that tongue.

I held her close to me as our lips were pressing together deliciously and her tongue caressed mine into submission. I enjoyed the friction of her chest and stomach rubbing against mine as she pumped subtly up and down on her tiptoes, no doubt to add to the pleasure for both us. I threaded my fingers into her hair after trailing them up the base of her neck, and a wave of vertigo shot through me at her breath hitching when I gripped those soft locks and tilted her head for better access. Rachel liked her hair being pulled; she liked it _very_ much.

She husked in my ear as I rained down an assault of licks, nips, and hot open-mouthed kisses on her glorious neck, "Baby, if you keep doing that, you're mother is going to be right to send a search and rescue team because I _will_ do terrible things to you."

A shiver shot through me as my imagination ran crazy like a meth-head on COPS. I knew she meant all of what she said—my mother would, literally, drive over to Rachel's house and pound on the door until she knew her daughter was safe; but the other truth was, Rachel would do awful and amazing things to me. She worked my body over with a dominance and pleasure that should be unlawful. Regretfully so, I calmed my hungry raid, and slowed my lips to gentle kisses as I made my way to her pulse point. With one more, open-mouth lave at her neck, I looked to her again. Her pupils were completely blown and she panted lightly, reigning in her clear want.

"As much as I would love to have you torment me, my mother will find me." I smiled at her and she returned it instantly. I squeezed her once more both to have her feel how much I adored her, but also for my own selfish want for once last feel of her body (I planned to use that memory later tonight… don't judge me. You've seen how hot she is…).

"I love you, Rach. I'll call you tomorrow."

She rested her head against my shoulder and kissed the skin there, exposed by my tank top. "Mm… okay…Bye, Babe, I love you, too." Once more she looked to where I was and kissed me sweetly before walking me to the door.

I walked toward my car adding a little swagger to my step because I knew Rachel was watching my ass as I went. As I reached for the handle, I decided that I deserved a little payback for missing the movie. I dropped my keys and bent slowly at the waist to pick them up. Looking over my shoulder, I was rewarded by the pure lust that my girlfriend's stare held.

When she saw the smirk on my face, she called out despite the fact that it was just barely after midnight, "I see what you did there, Fabray, and I will hold that against you!"

My smirk burst into a full-fledged smile and I got in my car to drive home. I was stopped at a traffic light, when the screen on my phone lit up the car, one new text from "Rach." I opened the message and I knew I was in trouble.

_Next Saturday: Funny Girl, you, me, and an empty house. You're staying over. Also…Your ass is mine. XOXO_

"Shit," I thought aloud. What have I done?

**A/N #3: Next chapter, Funny Girl: Night One…**


	2. Don't Rain on Her Parade  Part One

**A/N #1: Hello all, and thank you for the wonderful reviews and following! Hopefully, I haven't kept you waiting for too long. ;) And for Trixxy, who thought I was mean, I hope this chapter makes amends…**

**A/N #2: To my Fanfic friends, you might want to settle down with your vegan popcorn and something to drink. This is going to be quite an extended adventure. What can I say? Broadway inspired me… In fact I have broken it into two parts to save my sanity and yours. If you feel so moved, click that Review button at the bottom of the page. If not, so be it! Enjoy…**

**A/N #3: WARNINGS: Contains ass play… You've been warned. Not your cup of tea? Move on. No hurt feelings.**

**A/N #4: I do not own these characters. Sadly, all I own are the mistakes.**

Chapter 2: _Funny Girl_ – Night One…

"Don't Rain on (Her) Parade" – Part One

As the chimes of the doorbell sang their last, I heard footsteps approaching and a faint, "I'm coming," float through the door. 'Not yet, but you will be,' I thought to myself with a smile. Very rarely did we have an opportunity for an all-night sleepover where parents weren't in the near vicinity. We did well to take advantage of them.

The first time one of these opportunities "for uninhibited sexual exploration" (Berry's words, not mine…) presented itself, we had been dating for about four months. It was Valentine's Day and Rachel's dads were spending a romantic weekend in Cleveland, however romantic Cleveland could be. That weekend, I decidedly got more than I bargained for with Rachel.

Previously, our love life had kept to its mostly vanilla flavoring; however, I noticed in our past encounters that even when I was on top, Rachel still had an affinity for control, always finding a way to top me. And dirty talk? Hell, that girl had a mouth on her that a case of soap couldn't cure. I, on the other hand turned out to be easily submissive, which was a strange concept for me at first. Quinn fucking Fabray was canon Head Bitch in Charge in every aspect of her life, sans one apparently— the bedroom. Wait, I should clarify, in the bedroom… _with Rachel Berry_. Who knew that the control I once needed with my boyfriends was my inner lemon fighting off their testosterone?

That weekend, I became a true believer in Rachel's psychic ability because she managed to work my body over better than I or anyone else ever could. She knew exactly how to push me into my new sexual identity, "Rachel Berry's bitch." That weekend also marked my introduction to the "toy box." Apparently, Ms. Berry liked the kink. I was wary in the beginning, but when those chocolate orbs looked up to me and her lips formed the words, "Trust me…," I knew right then, I would never be able to say no to her. So, trust her I did and the munchkin actually rocked my world. From then on, my body was her personal playground. Don't get me wrong, I played the pleasure hand equally as well, but I had no problem in catering to my woman's needs and wants. That weekend then was forever known as "The Reeducation of Quinn Fabray."

I waited for the front door to swing open. As if directly connected to my psyche, the door magically opened on cue presenting an empty threshold. Curious, I stepped through.

"Rach? Sweetie?" I called to a seemingly empty house.

No sooner than I turned to shut the front door, did it close forcefully, and there stood Rachel wearing nothing but tanned skin, holding an apple with a bite taken out of it. Juice beaded on the outside of the peel, running down her thumb, as a droplet spilled over her lip. She chewed the lucky bite seductively, rolling it around with her tongue and crushing each bit between her teeth with devious calculation. I could tell she was searching my face for all of the clues that would help her determine her next move: wide eyes, check; open mouth, check; rapidly increased breathing, check; hunger and lust, check and check.

"Hi, Quinnie. Want a bite?" She purred. Her tongue darted down to clean the escaping droplet.

I licked my lips before catching the bottom one between my teeth, and unexpectedly, I experienced my first hot flash then and there at the tender age of 18. Holy hell, no wonder my mother was cranky all the time. I instinctively squeezed my thighs together, hoping to create a satisfactory friction for the time being, and mindlessly nodded my head.

She sauntered toward me, trailing her free hand up my right arm and across my shoulders as she circled me like prey. Placing her right hand flat to my lower back, she gazed at me slightly over my left shoulder. I turned my head to read her expression. Her eyes would tell me anything I wanted to know about what went on in that pretty little head of hers. One word swirled in her dark pupils, _feral_. She planned on pushing me tonight and the thought alone scared the shit out of me.

Suddenly, I felt a strict smack against my left ass cheek, and I yelped as I jerked my hips forward. My movement was stilled and my hand slapped away when I reached to soothe it. Fuck. This was new.

Rachel kept her place at my side and pushed up on her tiptoes, whispering in my ear, "I want you to use your big girl words tonight, Quinn, and don't make me remind you again."

I began to nod, then remembered her demand. "Yes."

Never leaving her raised position, she prompted me again, "Yes what, Sweetie?"

"Yes, Rachel, I would like a bite of the apple please."

"There's my girl," she cooed as she lowered herself to a standing position again.

She offered me a bite of the apple still in her hand. Shaking off the glaze from my mind after her show of dominance, I turned my focus to the fruit as she looked on with a coy smile and raised eyebrow. I couldn't help but see the irony from the Garden of Eden. Here was this woman with tempting fruit who would inevitably lead me into corruption, but what a sweet downfall it would be. I went to open my mouth to take a small bite, because, really? Fuck the apple.

Rachel watched this and the size of my bite apparently was not going to suffice for her. She brought her hand down firmly again, this time rougher.

"AAG-gmph," as I opened my mouth wider to protest, Rachel shoved the apple into my mouth and soothed my still slightly burning ass cheek. I bit off what I could and she took the fruit from me. She brought herself around to look me square in the eye and used her middle finger and thumb to wipe the juice that messily dribbled over my lips and chin as I chewed frantically.

"Good girl, Quinnie. Juicy, wouldn't you say? Such a lovely thing to bite…" The apple somehow disappeared and she wrapped her free arm around me and squeezed my ass. "Now when you're finished chewing, do me a favor and leave your tank top and shorts downstairs. Removing them will take time away from my oh-so-delicious plans for you. By the way," she paused to suck the stickiness from her fingers, releasing them with a pop, "I haven't forgotten your little stunt last Saturday. Your ass _will_ very much be mine tonight. You should know better than to tease me, Quinn. But don't worry, you'll learn your lesson by the end of the night."

And with that she pecked my cheek and bounded her way up the stairs, leaving me with a wet mess in more than one place and a pain in my ass.

After finishing my bite ( I didn't even like apples.), I removed my clothes, folded them, and placed them on my bag at the foot of the stairs. Normally, I would have ripped them off, but truth be told, this side of Rachel made me a certain kind of anxious, like being next in line for a fucking terrifying rollercoaster. You were scared as hell when you were next, but the ride was completely worth it. I mustered as much self-confidence and composure as one might be able to muster while walking up their wildly and slightly neurotic (but in a good way) girlfriend's staircase, clad only in my bra and underwear, not to mention being soaked through.

As I reached the door with the gold star, I took a deep breath before turning the knob. I moved forward and to my surprise, Rachel had on a tank top and baggy sweats. She was lying on her stomach, stretched across her bed, and _Funny Girl _was beginning its opening credits. _Huh? What the hell was this? _Before I could dwell on my confusion, I was shaken from my thoughts when Rachel called out to me.

"Quinn," she whined, "Hurry, you don't want to miss this! Come here, silly." She patted the place next to her on top of the comforter. Not wanting to step out of line because the Rachel I was dealing with was clearly crazy, I made my way to the bed and laid down cautiously next to her. She reached to the floor and picked up a bowl of vegan popcorn and trained her eyes on the screen. As Barbra began her epic journey, all I could think was, 'Seriously? What the fuck is going on?'

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately for my ass, my questions were answered not too long after that. Barbra's "Don't Rain on My Parade" scene was coming up, and I would deny this if ever confronted, it was actually my favorite part of the whole movie. The way Rachel sang it on the fly at Sectionals our sophomore year made my skin tingle and ignite. The rest, as they say, is history. Currently, however, I had substantially calmed down about the whole situation in which I found myself. That was mistake number one.

Just when Barbra was to start singing, Rachel paused the movie. My heart immediately beat faster and harder as I remembered the bet, '_Each night of which will include you performing a _personal_ interpretation of one of three _very special_ musical selections_…' Shit, shit, shit. She was going to make me sing this song and parade around in my bra and underwear. I just knew it, or did I?

She cuddled next to my shoulder and tapped it gently with her index finger.

"Mh—Yes, Rachel," I caught myself before I mumbled a sound instead of words as she had corrected me before. What can I say? Fabrays are quick studies.

She kissed my shoulder and brushed it gently with her tongue before whispering against my skin, "It's time to pay up, Quinnie."

A visible shudder tore through my body and I gulped loudly. Turning my head slowly, hoping to get a visual angle on my predator without making any sudden movements that could trigger her attack, I found her smiling sweetly at me. The moment was broken when she slid herself back off the bed, dimmed the lights and curled her finger in a come-hither manner. She still held that sweet smile that made my knees shake like Jell-o Jigglers. _Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all_… Oh, how wrong I was.

I moved to her quickly, doing everything in my power to appease the beast she clearly housed in her loins. As I stood before her, she tenderly removed my bra, wrapping her arms around me and gently squeezing before pulling away. Next Rachel slipped her middle fingers between the lace of my waistband and my hips, using them to slide the offending garment down to my ankles. She stood up, offered her hand chivalrously and aided me in stepping out of them. I couldn't help but feel like a prized possession she was so carefully trying to preserve. Something didn't add up, and I was right. This was the calm before the storm.

**A/N #5: Okay, show of reviews… who hates me? (No worries Part Two is hot off the press…)**


	3. Don't Rain on Her Parade Part Two

**A/N #1: Okay, okay, calm down, people! I told you I would post both parts. So without further ado, Part Two. If you feel so moved, press the Review button at the bottom. If not, so be it! Enjoy..**

**A/N #2: WARNINGS: Contains MORE ass play, lots more… You've been warned. Not your cup of tea? Move on. No hurt feelings.**

**A/N #3: I do not own these characters. Sadly, all I own are the mistakes.**

Chapter 2: _Funny Girl_ – Night One…

"Don't Rain on My Parade" – Part Two

"Follow me."

She led me to her vanity and pulled out her chair. Reaching for the remote that was on her desk, she… Wait, what? How the hell did the remote end up here? Sneaky Berry and her damn ninja ways! She then pressed play and belted out with Barbra,

"Don't tell me not to live, just to sit and putter," sitting at the appropriate cue,

"Life's candy and the sun's a ball of butter.

Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade!"

She paused once again, humming, set the remote back on her vanity, and pulled a drawer open. Rachel tugged at my hand and settled my hips in front of the table facing the mirror. Using mesmerizing caresses across my back, she applied gentle pressure and leaned me forward, presenting my ass at damn near eye level. I saw a sheen of anxious perspiration form on my brow in the mirror. I had never been this exposed or aroused. Movement broke my reverie and I realized that from the drawer, Rachel had pulled out… _CARAMEL?_ Sweet Mary and Joseph, she was using her finger to drizzle my ass cheeks with caramel. Oh Cheesus. My surprise exploded verbally without filter.

"Holy shit, Rachel, what are y—"

Her hand rained down on my ass with a loud smack. I gasped dramatically and hissed at the sting, the caramel like a candy tormentor between the skin to skin contact. Somewhere in the distance the movie started again and Rachel sang to me,

"Don't tell me not to fly, I simply got to

If someone takes a spill, it's me and _not_ you.

Who told you you're allowed to rain on my parade?"

She stood up from behind me as she sang the next part, a stern fire in her eyes locking with mine in the mirror, and singing suggestively.

" I'll march my band out, I'll beat my drum," she sang with lust and lightly slapped at my ass.

"And if I'm fanned out, _your_ turn at bat, sir," she emphasized 'bat' with another slap.

"At least I didn't fake it, hat, sir,

I guess I didn't make it…" She trailed off and the film halted once again, but she leaned in close and added her own breathy ending to the last line, "Clear."

I now understood how we were going to play this game. She would sing and interpret what she wanted to do with me, or more specifically, my ass. I would only take my turn when given it. There was my Dom!Rachel.

She turned her attention back to the caramel and sensually swirled her finger in the bowl, raising it high enough for me to see the gooey candy drip. Her nails raked over my candied skin and in a turn of events, she knelt behind me. I realized the candy was becoming warmer and despite my above-average intelligence, it took a good moment to realize her breath was the culprit. She swiped her tongue through the caramel, forcing its way past the silken layer to the skin beneath.

"Oh, fuck, Rachel."

She brought her face just above the mounds of my cheeks and grinned wickedly at me in the mirror as she lowered herself once again. That sight alone was almost enough to make me come, but I pushed past the savage tightening I felt in my lower abdomen, because, damn it, Fabrays weren't quitters. I would put my manners to good use and come when my woman wanted me to come. I turned my attention back to the lavish mouth that was sucking and licking and biting at the sweetness layered on my ass. The teasing of having her breath tickle across my skin and having her mouth so near where I needed her most, was almost better than an orgasm… almost.

Some time passed as she continued to worship the mounds of flesh. I was embarrassingly wet and turned on to the point that moving might cause me lose it right there. With one more lick for each cheek, she stood again, dipping her finger in the caramel one last time. She extended her arm and swiped the finger just inside my bottom lip as my mouth lost all ability to close itself some time ago.

"Want a taste, Quinnie? It's quite appetizing…"

I smoothed my tongue across the caramel and cleaned her finger off as she pulled it from my lips. She took my hand from the vanity top and led me to the foot of the bed as the movie began again. Awesome. Phase two. She seemed pleased with me and I gave myself a mental pat on the back for keeping her happy. I had no idea what was to happen next, but I was sure of three things—one: my clit was throbbing in time with my rapid pulse, two: I was dripping down the inside of my thighs, and three: I really, really, really wanted to come.

She was singing again. I missed the first part and prayed there wouldn't be a quiz.

"… The cinder or the shiny _apple_ of its eye," she winked as she sang 'apple' and I knew her little stunt downstairs had something to do with that. She continued,

"I gotta fly once, I gotta try once,

Only can die once, right, sir?

Oh, life is juicy, juicy, and you see," she squeezed my ass cheeks and ghosted her hands over the skin that connected them to my thighs.

"I gotta have my bite, sir!" she chomped her pearly whites through the air next to my ear, causing my breath to catch. Everything about the song was turning into a sexual fantasy I filed away for safekeeping and poor Barbra would die if she knew about the naughty things that conjured in my mind.

This time, the movie stopped, but she kept singing, softer and sexier than I've ever heard her voice. Rachel grasped my chin with one hand and continued her ministrations with the other. Looking deep into my now barely recognizable hazel eyes, she sang directly to me as if giving my one on one instruction for what was to happen next.

"Get ready for me love, 'cause I'm a 'comer,'

I simply gotta march, my heart's a drummer.

Don't bring around a cloud to rain on my parade."

Her expectations for me were clear. She was going to make sure I was taken care of, but she needed to own my ass first. Rachel wanted me to let her be in control and submit to whatever she was about to do. I, personally, had no problem with that. She believed the silent agreement in my eyes and spoke with authority.

"On the bed, Quinn."

I did as she said and sat in the middle of the bed as she turned and walked to her closet. Good golly, Molly, she was getting the toy box. My brain was weighing any and all good and bad consequences of this new development while my libido screamed at it to shut up. As Rachel trifled through the small trunk, she looked back at my position on the bed and shook her head. Uh oh…

"Oh, no, no, Sweetie. I thought I made it clear that tonight was about me and owning that luscious backside of yours. However will I do that if you're sitting on it? Now be a doll and get up on all fours, would you?"

She looked down once again, and knowing that I would pay for my ignorant action later, I snapped up as fast as I could so as not to anger her crazy. I was facing the headboard with my eyes closed when I felt the bed dip next to me. Okay, so, not exactly the location I was expecting, but I trus—

"What did I _tell_ you earlier about answering me, Quinn?"

My thoughts were interrupted by her teeth scraping my ear. I opened my mouth to speak and the dryness there made it difficult.

"S-sorry, Rachel. Yes, ma'am, on all fours for you."

"There's my good girl. You seem a little distracted this evening, Quinnie. Are your thoughts getting the best of what should be _my_ attention?"

"Yes, Rachel, my mind is wandering a bit at all the possibilities of what you could do with me tonight."

"I see. Perhaps I can remedy that. Would you like to tell me what is in store for this next part of the performance?"

"Yes."

A loud smack sounded and a stinging pain shot through my rear end clear up to the backs of my eyes which shot open on impact.

Rachel pushed, voice seething with power, "Yes what, Quinn?"

"Y-yes, please," I whimpered trying to recover from the burning sensation radiating from my posterior.

"Well, okay then… since you asked nicely.'"

She slid under my raised body, laying on her back, perpendicular between my planted hands and bent knees. Fuck my life. It took everything in me to not abandon this whole fucking thing and take her as she lay under me. But I knew my place, and I knew somehow she would reprimand me, perhaps not then but sometime when I least expected it. Rachel rolled to her side and trailed gentle kisses up my left thigh as she carefully pulled herself through my self-made tunnel and raised herself up to a sitting position next to me, legs still sprawled beneath me. She never ceased her kisses as they focused on the skin found adjunct between my hip and my ass cheek. She did, however, utilize the time between them to explain what she planned to do to me and with me.

"During this part of the interpretation," _kiss,_ " the lyrics speak clearly, Quinnie." _Kiss_. "Your bottom is the shiny apple of my eye," _kiss_, "and you see, I must experience it to the _fullest_." _Kiss_.

My mind was racing as I did my best to get into Rachel's head and figure out what she meant by fullest. My contemplation was cut short as the bed dipped once more and Rachel knelt behind me.

"Quinn, your ass… " Shit. The way she said 'ass' was sexy as fuck and I found myself unable to control myself before telling her so.

"Shit, Rach, the way you say 'ass' is sexy as fuck."

She must have been pleased with the effect she was having on me because she let that indiscretion slide. She continued on about her plans.

"Your ass is sooo juicy. Let's cut through the bullshit and allow me to be direct. I want to eat your juicy ass, Quinnie. I want to bite it and tear it apart with my teeth. I want to taste you and I don't want you to rain on my parade by objecting. I will make you come, Quinn, that you can be sure of, but what I need right now is a willing participant. What do you say, Sweetie? Can you be my willing participant?"

Shock overrode my system at the graphic detail she gave. Holy fuck, Rachel. You have a way with words. Taking a few moments to gather my thoughts, I responded quite eloquently.

"Yes, Rachel."

Smooth, right? I thought it was delivered damn well considering my state. Here I was, ass naked (sorry, I couldn't help myself), propped up on my hands and knees with my hot girlfriend behind me telling me that she was going to taste and bite and tear apart my ass before she lets me come even though I'm on edge right now, dripping down my thigh with my clit's throbbing pounding in my ear. You try to come up with something better!

"Oh, good girl, Quinn. I knew I could count on you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta try once and get my bite, sir," she purred.

I barely had time register that she repeated lyrics from the song before her teeth sank into the meat on my rear end. 

"AAH, fuck, Rachel, shit."

She soothed the sting with the flat of her tongue as she palmed the other cheek roughly. Her assault continued as she kept building up the tension coiling in my lower abdomen. Rough bite, soothing tongue, rough palming. The pattern continued as it spanned the expanse of my cheeks. I was losing my resolve quickly and I knew it by how loose I was with my tongue.

"Yes. Fuck. Yes, baby… Mmm… Yeah, Rachel, bite that ass—"

Oh, no. My eyes shot open. The Head Bitch in me was clawing to get out. I knew as soon those words came out of my mouth, I would be in trouble once again. I prayed to everything holy, hoping Rachel didn't catch the domineering remark, but alas, the force was not with me.

She stopped mid-lick and pulled her head away from my abused flesh.

"What was that Quinn?"

"Um, nothing… uh, 'Fuck. Yes, baby?'"

"No, Quinnie," she said with a sickeningly sweet smile—I couldn't see it but I heard it, "after that."

"'Mmm?'"

"You're making this worse than it has to be. Now, I'm only going to ask you one more time. What did you say, Quinn?"

Well, fuck. "I said, 'Yeah, Rachel, bite that ass…'" My face burned with embarrassment. I should've known better.

"Ah, that's what I thought." She left the foot of the bed and made her way back to the toy box.

Suddenly the movie was playing again and Rachel sang with determination as I heard her shuffling around with the items in the "trunk of iniquity."

"I'm gonna live and live now,

Get what I want—I know how,

One roll for the whole shebang!"

She was becoming heated at this point and made her way back to me. She smoothed over my ass with her left hand and palmed both ass cheeks roughly.

" One throw that bell will go clang."

I started to panic when I glanced back and saw the paddle. That was _definitely_ new. How long had she had that? Then, the panic I felt a split second ago was made to look like kiddy's play as I remembered the next line of that goddamn song, "_Eye on the target, and—_"

WHAM! A reverberating sound of the connection between flesh and wood, bounced from wall to wall, ricocheting in my ears as the initial blow to my ass connected the dots to the pain I felt shooting down to the tips of my toes and up through my spine. Fuck it hurt, but when the paddle met me again, I had to do everything in power not to come on impact.

"O-oh, Rachel," I moaned in a husky voice that was unfamiliar to me.

She wailed down on my ass again, watching the flesh bounce, and spoke desperately now that the film was silent.

"Good girls don't demand things they don't deserve, Quinn." SMACK! "Now, you've received four spankings for four of the words with which you so rudely interrupted me. You have one more coming and you'll do best to hold your tongue and only speak when told to do so. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Rachel."

"Now, from what I see, you're a very wet girl, Quinn. Am I right in assuming I did this to you?"

She dragged the paddle along my slit, that being the first contact I had had all night. My body trembled on its own involuntarily as my hips pressed back, seeking more friction. I needed to come, so I played into her weakness—completely submissive!Quinn.

"Yes, Rachel, mm…, all from you. So wet for yoouu, baby…"

I dragged out the "you" in my sexiest voice possible, the one I knew Rachel couldn't resist. I was hitting way below the belt out of selfish necessity. I needed to come.

"I like to hear that, but, you see, Quinnie, I don't believe you even deserve my punishment what with trying to manipulate me with _that_ voice."

Seriously? Fuck, Rachel, throw a girl a fucking bone!

"I didn't mean—" SLAP! She used her hand that time to stop my verbal onslaught.

"I didn't ask you a question. Now in order to receive the last of your punishment and continue tonight's festivities, I'm going to need to hear you beg."

Pride, be damned! "Please, Rachel, I need you. Fuck, I'm so wet and I'm begging you to finish me. No one can dominate me the way you can or make me come harder. I'm completely yours, my ass, my pussy, my breasts, my mouth, my whole body…" I trailed off after I laid everything out there.

And in all of but one moment, Rachel managed to change the air between us. She had maneuvered her way to my side, kneeling so that her face was level with my ear. I kept my eyes shut tightly. She was unpredictable.

"Your heart?" Her voice was completely void of dominance and for a second I thought I heard vulnerability.

I blinked my eyes open to see an insecure Rachel looking at me in earnest. At that moment, I couldn't love Rachel Berry any more. She was breathtaking. I swallowed thickly and answered with every amount of truth I had in my body.

"Without a doubt."

She smiled and returned to her rightful spot. Almost instantly, she was back in character.

"So Quinnie, if I _own_ _everything_, does that mean I can _do_ _anything_?"

Without hesitation, I answered, "Yes, Rachel, please. Use me."

"As you wish, but only because you used your manners."

She left me in that state, and I didn't bother to question what happened to my last paddling. My only feelings were the ache rising in my ass cheeks and the anticipation I felt in my throbbing pussy. I heard Rachel rustling with her clothing. I could only imagine what she looked like taking of that tank top and those sweats. I didn't chance a glance but settled for licking my dry lips.

The movie played briefly and Rachel sang, "One shot…"

The bed dipped behind me for what I hoped would be the last time. I felt her breath dancing across the tender skin as she gently caressed it with her hands and peppered it with kisses. I fell into a dream state at the comfort she was supplying my body until… DREAM STATE OVER! Rachel was spreading my ass cheeks and I felt her breath wash over my puckered hole. Then, my world went black for indeterminate amount of time.

When I came to my senses, I realized that my extremely talented girlfriend was using her tongue in a new and glorious way. She licked heated stripes up and over my hole, leaving a coating of saliva in her wake. I, in turn, responded with what I knew would she would love—verbal reinforcement. Rachel was a sucker for feedback as long as it remained in a submissive state and hopefully, it would speed things up. Not that I wasn't enjoying this immensely, but the truth was my body was becoming over stimulated and my arms were about to collapse and my legs were weakening having been this position for a good hour.

"Fuck, Rachel. So good. I need you. Please.." and, "Oh, your tongue, baby, mmm…"

I knew I had sent her confidence into overdrive because she added more friction and licked sloppier, knowing that would increase the pleasure for me. But then, after several minutes of worshipping my ass' opening, she changed the game again as I felt her tongue slip in past the rim. I couldn't stop the string of obscenities that surged from my lips.

"Fucking shit, Rachel! Ohmygod, please, baby! Ooooh, fuck, yes!"

"One gunshot, and…" she sang without Barbra this time and she mercilessly plunged deeper into my asshole. She dragged her tongue along the inside of my tight channel alternating a gentle push with a rough thrust as she was seemingly trying to loosen me up. I could only let her now. My body and mind were mush. My face, ground into the comforter that smelled of my girlfriend, and all reactions were strictly instinctual now. I rocked back against her face, relishing in the delicious friction her chin was giving my other entrance.

All of her movements were halted for a brief moment and suddenly I felt a jolt through my body, snapping me from the pleasured state I was currently occupying. Something other than her tongue was requesting permission. I looked back over my shoulder and lightning strike me for the filthy images that flooded my brain. Rachel saw my glance back and connecting our eyes, she laid the 7 inch strap on against my lower back, guiding it to rest specifically between where my two cheeks met at its base. I raked in with hunger the sight behind me and when she saw that I was aware of what was coming, she smiled seductively.

"I told you your ass was mine, Quinnie. Try not to look so surprised."

This was the culmination of her evening. I put everything together in an instant. She had been wearing that strap on all night under those baggy sweats. My mouth watered at the thought of her having to lay against it on the bed for as long as she did, having to kneel with the straps digging into her hips while she licked at the caramel, having it rub against her thighs as she spanked my wanting ass, and having to wait with the insert pressed snugly to her clit as she prepared my hole for her entry. That's when I realized she was experiencing just as much agony as I endured for the entire night, minus a few bruises. The epiphany gave me a renewed vigor whose only goal was to make sure Rachel came when she fucked my ass.

I nodded at her and played one of my cards, "Please, Rachel, you know what I need, baby."

"BAM—" she sang out, reminding me this was all part of our initial bet.

Then she moaned behind me as she slid the appendage through my wetness. I bit my lip and whimpered as the head brushed my clit. Once it was nice and slick, she pressed the head of the strap on at my virgin hole. Tentatively, she pushed the head past the rim with what felt like a pop. My ass clenched around the foreign object and I fought to familiarize the odd and somewhat painful sensation. The friction of my gentle clenching must have transferred to the insert at Rachel's clit because she moaned behind me.

"Oh fuck, Quinn, so tight."

The husk in her voice urged me on again, and I gently rocked back, hoping Rachel would get the message that I was ready for more if she was. Apparently it went through loud and clear because in one full thrust, every inch of the strap on was inside me. The splitting pain blinded me initially. I slammed my hand down on the bed and I cried out.

"AAAGH! Fuck!"

Concerned, Rachel broke character, "Baby, are you o—"

I stopped her immediately when I forced through gritted teeth, "Rach, please, fuck me…"

If there was one thing about Rachel Berry, she never had to ask twice. She slowly advanced into me until her hips met my ass cheeks, then dragged the length out only to stop with just the head inside. I moaned, slack-jawed, unable to form words and involuntarily canted my hips back matching her motion. My body was becoming all one mass working toward the common goal: coming. After a few experimental thrusts, making sure I wouldn't buckle, Rachel increased her speed (and inadvertently mine) as well as her verbal remarks.

"That's it Quinn, hump my cock, baby. Shit, look at your ass begging me to fuck it harder and faster. Who's ass is it, Quinn? Answer me."

"YOURS!" She thrust particularly hard, "Yours, Rachel, only yours. Fuck me harder, baby, please. I can't get enough of your cock!"

"Such a filthy mouth, Quinnie. You're a dirty girl, aren't you? I'll bet you're wet from me fucking your ass…"

She deepened her thrusts and brought her hand down to my pussy that was milking thin air desperate for any type of friction. She felt my entrance and her two fingers were suddenly sucked into my wet heat.

"Shit, Quinn. Fuck. So wet for me. Do you like this? Getting fucked in both your pussy and your asshole?"

A shaky, "Yes," fell from my lips and my body continued its upward spiral. A loud crack resonated in the room above the slapping sounds made by my thighs and ass pounding against Rachel's hips as they connected again and again. It took a moment to register the painful pleasure as another spanking on my already bruising flesh.

"Yes, what? You know better."

"Yes, I love being fucked in my slutty holes, Rachel! Harder, please…"

I concentrated hard on clenching all of my muscles that had anything to do with fucking. I was jerking back into her with reckless abandon and she knew I was getting close. She leaned forward, and chuckled with a bite. The long-forgotten movie was playing again and Rachel pulled me up flush against her bare chest. The changed angle allowed me to completely sheath myself on her fingers and cock as she held me in place by wrapping her free arm around to cup my bouncing breasts.

"Hey, Mr. Arnstein…"

She thrust faster, knowing I would come at any moment. I clenched with the last bit of my strength and she punctuated the last three thrusts that would cause my orgasm to crash through me.

"… here…"

"Oh fuck Rachel!"

"… I…"

"Yes, give it to me! One more, baby…so close."

"… AAAAMMM!"

"Fuck, RAAACHEL, I'm coming!"

She held me tight as our bodies quaked together, skin melding us into one body as I gripped the back of her head, pulling at her locks. She kept her fingers and cock thrust deep in both of my tight holes. When the trembling stopped between us, we collapsed to the bed still very much attached. The movie played on in the background and Rachel purred along with the lyrics being sung, stroking my hair.

"I'll march my band out…"

I laughed lightheartedly at her flirtatious tone as she continued to lull me into a post-orgasmic haze.

"I'll beat my drum."

With that she patted my ass playfully as she unsheathed herself from my entrances that were quivering with spasms.

"And if I'm fanned out…"

I mouthed the word, "Never," as I rolled over to face her. My god, she was beautiful.

"Your turn at bat, sir,

At least I didn't fake it, hat, sir.

I guess I didn't make it."

I dropped my bashful eyes from her gorgeous stare that made me want to sing and cry at the same time. She used her finger to lift my chin in order to finish her serenade. Looking through me with all the love in her heart, she continued, just over a whisper.

"Get ready for me, love, 'cause I'm a 'comer,'

I simply gotta march, my heart's a drummer."

At that, she patted the skin over her heart to the rhythm of the song and I knew she was implying that it was mine and would only ever beat for me.

"Nobody, no, nobody…

Is gonna…

Rain on my…

Parade…"

By the end of her serenade, I was on the verge of drifting in a peaceful state, cuddled to her chest tightly. I spoke a raspy and whispered "I love you," and she kissed me softly on my forehead.

"I love you too, Quinn."

I blinked my last for the evening, welcoming the much needed sleep to my mind and body, but before I completely succumbed to the dream world, I heard my girlfriend whisper one more thing into the thick atmosphere of her bedroom.

"Best version yet, Barbra…"

**A/N #4: Thoughts? 'Cause my brains kind of mush after cranking this one out…**


	4. BONUS

**A/N #1: So, because some of you wanted more chapters and because **_**jupitor01**_** had no school or work today… If you feel so moved, click the little Review button at the bottom of the page. If not, so be it! Enjoy…**

**A/N #2: I do not own these characters or **_**Funny Girl**_**. Sadly, all I own are the mistakes.**

Chapter 3: _Funny Girl _– Night Two…

Bonus (for all the nice reviews)… the morning of "My Man"

I cracked one eye open groggily at the introduction of light into Rachel's room. There was my girlfriend, throwing curtains open wide in all her cheery, morning glory, humming like some damn Disney princess.

"Ah, Quinn, good morning!" she spoke melodiously and I had to fight back the urge to want to punch her.

I glanced to the alarm clock at my left and blinked my eyes to focus on the digital display—7:04.

"Ugh! Seriously, Rach?"

I closed my eyes once more and groaned petulantly at the thought of being awake at this time on a Saturday morning. But then again, that's what you get for dating a Berry. There wasn't anyone in this household who slept in past 6:45…_every day. _Is it too much to ask for a girl who was aching deliciously to get a few more hours of sleep? The answer is, "Yes, yes it is."

"Enough of that. There's no need to be grumpy on this glorious morning. I have big plans for our day, and I need you to rise and shine if we hope to accomplish them."

I sighed in surrender and threw the covers off to the right of me, draping my arm heavily over my eyes and willing my sore and used ass to move. Feeling no more motivation than I did a moment ago, I let out a soft "hmph" hoping to gain a bit of compassion from my girlfriend who technically is responsible for my well spent state. Clearly, I was delusional…

My edge of the bed sank gently and I felt Rachel's breath roll over my forearm still covering my face. My backside clenched due to its conditioning from the previous evening's activities, and then her voice travelled straight to the pit of my stomach, a deliberate and authoritative tone.

"Now, Quinnie," she said calmly, "I thought I made it perfectly clear last that I like for you to follow directions. I'd hate to have to spoil our plans for today and this evening because my girlfriend needs to be taught that lesson again." My body broke into an involuntary tremor, and she continued, "So be a good girl, roll that sexy _ass_ out of bed, and go shower, would you?"

I forced the dryness from mouth at how she said 'ass' (I knew she was tormenting me...) and swallowed quickly before I responded, "Yes, Rachel."

She moved my arm away from my eyes still shut tightly and placed feather-light kisses on both of them before kissing down my nose and finally landing on my lips. I kissed back sweetly, taking the time to savor the taste of her lips. I couldn't ever get enough of them—soft, plump, smooth, and willing. My eyes fluttered open, and I fell in love with her all over again. The morning sunlight traced the curves of her face and highlighted the light brown found in her mostly dark locks. Her eyes held a glossy sheen as the glow illuminated them from the side. Feeling a bubbling over of intense emotion, I had to tell her how I felt about her.

"_Fuck_, you're gorgeous, Rachel. How is it that you…love _me_?"

She told me all the time that she loved me, but I did honestly question why she chose me when the truth was that she could do so much better. I was stubborn and could be a complete bitch on cue. I still wasn't very nice to people and I had no outstanding talents of which I was aware. I was working on being more open about my feelings, but I had no redeeming qualities to keep me afloat on the "worthy" river other than being an outstanding lover, if I could be so bold, and that fueled my insecurity. Knowing this, however, I worried that my relationship with Rachel was only about sex—that we somehow confused and misinterpreted our lust and sexual tension as love.

"Oh, Quinn, sweetie, I wish you could see yourself how I see you. If you could, you'd know why I love you."

I smiled shyly and turned my head toward the alarm clock, trying to avoid the intimacy that her gaze ignited—7:12. If I'm honest with myself, soft and sweet intimacy stoked a fear inside me that I could not bite back or get a handle on. I fell easily into a submissive role because if somebody told me what to do, I didn't have to act on my own feelings. I told Rachel all the time how much I loved her and that she had my heart, but she didn't know how much I truly needed her and how I felt like I couldn't breathe when I wasn't around her. She had no idea that she was my entire world and that what I felt for her far surpassed teenage puppy love. But being stubborn as I was, I had to hold onto that chip until I knew I had a hand I couldn't lose. And until then, submissive, it was.

"Okay, so, I'm off to the shower, and you're off to fix me breakfast, right?" I changed the subject and deflected like I always did. As soon as I said it, I noticed the slightest change in Rachel's eyes. An untrained eye wouldn't have caught it, but when you've spent the last six months drowning in those chocolate spheres, it was easy to spot. I couldn't quite place the exact emotion but it seemed a cross between sadness and want. I could dwell on it in the shower. I lightly shook my conscience and decided to follow Rachel's directions because at the moment, my ass could not take another "lesson."

"You're terrible, Quinn, but because I _love_ _you_ so much, I will make you breakfast. What would you like?"

The way she said 'love you' calmed my raging insecurities and I was thankful that she didn't press our previous conversation.

"Um, dare I ask if you have any bacon in that vegan fridge of yours?"

She giggled and nodded. I playfully nudged her off of the bed and she turned to leave, throwing a "You're a mess!" over her shoulder as she headed through the door and down the stairs.

Using every amount of strength I had, I willed my body out of bed and made my way to the bathroom. Letting the shower get nice and steamy, (the hotter, the better, I always say…) I observed myself in the mirror and took in the appearance of Rachel Berry's official Sex Toy. _Not too shabby, Fabray_. With that fleeting thought, I turned toward the shower and glanced sideways at my form.

"Shit!"

I retreated from the shower edge to get a close-up in the mirror of my clearly abused ass cheeks. I hiked up on my tiptoes and bent my waist away from the mirror to get a better look at my backside when Rachel burst through the door, the surprise catching me off balance.

"What is it, Quinn? What's the matter?"

I flapped my arms comically like a children's cartoon character before I finally steadied myself with my hands against the edge of the bathtub. Rachel's smug chuckle brought me out of my post near-traumatic anxiety. I joined her soon after when I realized the position I was in—spread legs, bent over at the waist, gripping the side of the tub, looking over my right shoulder. I looked like a goddamn Internet porn ad.

Rachel laughed even harder as she called me out on the spot. "Why, Ms. Fabray, are you propositioning me?"

We chuckled again and then Rachel went silent. Before I could pull myself into a standing position to see what the problem was, I glanced over my shoulder again. Only this time, she wasn't laughing. Her eyes were trained on my reddish purple flesh that was raked with teeth marks. My breaths quickened as I saw her chest begin to rise and fall dramatically. _Holy Fuck, Rachel. Again?_ I knew where this was leading, so I braced myself and shut my eyes tightly hoping to barter with my brain to give me the strength for another go-round. If I could handle Sue Sylvester three-a-days, I could handle Rachel Berry's. Although, I'd like to point out that Coach never saw over my physical exertion while she was naked, thank Cheesus. I summoned all of my reserved energy because the look of desire in her eyes made me want her again. Using my prowess from last night, I called to her.

"Rachel, please."

I looked at her with my best 'fuck me' eyes and her resolve snapped instantly. She moved to me and pressed her cotton shorts-clad hips snugly against my ass. I sighed heavily at the comfort her warm body was giving to my aching skin. She moved her hands tenderly but firmly in circles as they traveled up the length of my back. From there, her left hand curled over my adjacent shoulder as her right tangled in my messy short locks. Her hands were currently working their magic as fingertips were ghosting over the skin of my naked shoulder and gently massaging my scalp. This was yet another reason for me to give her my heart. Every touch was so complex. I knew she wanted me and I knew she wanted to make every minute good for me.

"Mmm, Rachel, that feels so good."

At the close of my statement, her fingers formed a grip on my shoulder. We were rocking back and forth slowly now as her right hand still worked the skin of my scalp. Our hips were reaching a pleasant (and slightly painful for me) pace that provided some friction for my very wet center. Rachel changed the game again when I felt the fingers in my hair tug lightly. They released and continued massaging, then grasped again, tighter this time. A few moments of this tugging game ended when the strong hand gripped my hair tightly against my scalp and Rachel turned my head slightly. The action caused a sudden outburst.

"Aah!"

She didn't let go until she guided me back into a standing position. Keeping my head still with her grip, her other hand reached between her clothed body and my bare one. The warmth of her hand sent some much needed soothing to my aching behind, and her breathy words trickled over the place where my ear met my jaw.

"Fuck, Quinnie, let me make it better."

She kissed my cheek chastely and released my hair as she brought her lips to my shoulder, dusted her tongue over the base of my neck, and slowly pulled her hands over the skin on my upper arms. Steadying herself with a light grip on my arms, she lowered herself to her knees, dragging her lips down the center of back. She released her hold on my shoulders, and her hands found refuge on my hips. As Rachel spoiled my much-deserving rear end, I couldn't help but find the irony among my current pleasure in the all-too-appropriate, hermetically sealed _Funny Girl_ poster mocking me from its place of honor over the "throne." _Gee, thanks for the inspiration, Barbra! _Leave it to my musical-obsessed girlfriend to have an airtight poster frame in her bathroom—"_Quinn, it's signed! And I can't very well let Barbra fall victim to evil mildew_!"

Not wanting Barbra to see me in this state, I glanced sideways at the mirror that had a steamy fog misted over its top and sides, perfectly framing the incredibly hot picture of my girlfriend on her knees behind me licking at my wounded ass. The sight was enough to make my knees buckle slightly and my core gush heavily. Rachel noticed. She turned her attention to the mirror and what she saw apparently made her want to drastically change the tempo. There I was staring at her with determined, lustful eyes, a blush creeping up from my chest, my mouth just ajar, and my tongue pulsing behind flushed lips. I wet them when her eyes met mine, and no sooner than when my tongue was to withdraw back into my mouth, Rachel stood, about faced on me, and sucked the willing muscle into hers. Her tongue made long, languid strokes across mine as a delicious suction formed between her mouth and mine.

"Nnnnh…" I moaned wantonly.

My sound instigated her release of my lavished muscle and I drew back, so that our noses were barely touching.

"Rachel," I panted, "you make me want you so damn much. Let me show you how much."

She dipped her hand down to the apex of my thighs and growled at the ocean she had discovered between my folds. _Fucking Ferdinand Magellan_. Her middle finger swirled in the evidence of my want and she slowly brought it to my mouth. She ran the tip over my bottom lip, leaving a glossy sheen on the paralyzed skin, and moaned as she took the tip between her lips to taste me, releasing it with a pop.

"You'll have to wait your turn, Quinnie," she husked. "I, unfortunately, have other business downstairs in which to attend. Enjoy your shower…"

She licked a hot stripe over my bottom lip and shut the door to the bathroom behind her.

"Fuck!" _Fuck. My. Life._

**A/N #3: **_**COME AT ME, BRO!**_


	5. A Peace Offering

**A/N #1: Wow, people, how quickly an author can fall from grace in the world of fanfiction! It's time to make amends and appease you before this turns into a **_**Funny Girl**_** sex riot! I am almost finished with the **_**Funny Girl **_**number, but I needed some "release." So, here's a little sexy nugget to hold you over until dinner… If you feel so inclined, press the little Review button at the bottom. If not,… I'm losing patience with you! Haha… just kidding. But really…**

**A/N #2: I do not own these characters or **_**Funny Girl**_**. Sadly, all I own are the mistakes.**

Chapter 3 (cont.): _Funny Girl_ – Night Two

A Peace Offering… day and early evening of "My Man"

According to the evil, red glowing alarm clock in Rachel's room, it was 7:04 p.m. _What was it with that time? _Rachel had sent me to her room at 6:00 to change into a pale yellow dress she had set out for me and informed me that we would be having a special date downstairs. I was to get ready and remain in the room until the appropriate time if I was to be fed. She must have had this planned ahead of time because she handed me an envelope as I climbed the stairs. When I opened it, on a piece of elegantly etched paper was a typed invitation.

_Ms. Rachel Barbra Berry_

_requests the presence of _

_Ms. Lucy Quinn Fabray_

_in the basement at Table One _

_for an unforgettable evening_

_beginning at 7:15_

This morning Rachel had left me wet and wanting as she went downstairs to finish my "atrocity" of a breakfast. Needless to say the events did not quite play out like I expected they would. Instead of getting some _hot_ action in the shower or perhaps on the bathroom countertop, I was forced to endure a _lukewarm_ shower that turned to _cold_ as I shaved my legs, seeing as that most of the hot water was wasted during our near sexcapade. Sure, some might have called her a TEASE; some might have called her a meanie; some might have called it wrong how she left me without pleasing me; and some might have called it downright cruel and mean. I, however, called it Rachel Berry seeks revenge against my former evil cheerleader self. She never let me live down my infamous, "It's all about the teasing and not about the pleasing!" quote in Celibacy Club, and her revenge came in true eye-for-an-eye fashion.

Following my horrid shower, Rachel and I sat and ate breakfast together, discussing the plans for the day. I knew better than to complain out my need for release because my girlfriend would simply make me wait just that much longer. I also knew that I would have to trust that she wouldn't torture me for too long. We were practically finished with our meals when I, again, sought a tiny bit of revenge for being left high and anything but dry this morning. (Why I do this to myself is a mystery. Maybe I'm a masochist…) Rachel left the breakfast bar to rinse her plate at the sink. Taking my last piece of bacon, I snuck up behind her and dangled the piece of "_poor swine flesh—their mothers sing to them while nursing, you know—," _threatening to touch her with it. She darted from between the sink and my body, running around the island until I cornered her between the refrigerator and the wall.

"Quinn," she said in a low, drawn out, authoritative voice, "Don't do it, Quinn."

I kissed her fiercely, and then lightly smacked the bacon across her cheek. She shrieked and ran off to the bathroom, no doubt scrubbing the abomination from her skin. After she was thoroughly cleansed, she caught me off guard as I was washing the pans when she smacked me hard on my rear end, chuckling viciously when I yelped. _Sweet Cheesus_! That woman did not fight fairly.

This morning when Rachel said she had a busy day planned for us, it turned out she was right. After breakfast, we made our way to the Lima mall. She wanted to buy a few new outfits for National's that was coming up. I should've refused the offer to go into the dressing room with her "to provide much essential feedback on her outward appearance." It took her 17 minutes to try on all of two options. It took us another 18 to stop groping one another before a saleswoman addressed us from just outside the door.

"_Um, excuse me, ladies, we're going to have to ask you to stop what you're doing and exit the dressing room. There are other customers who require its use_."

"_Be right out,_" Rachel called, "_I was having trouble with a zipper!_"

She giggled at the fact that what she said was true—she had pulled down the zipper of my jeans about 10 minutes in, and we couldn't for the life of us get it to rise up to its original position.

"_Rachel,"_ I hissed in a harsh whisper, "_Fix it! Please!"_

Not only did that fiasco cause embarrassment as we both came out of the fitting room at the same time, but it also didn't have any form of happy ending for me. My hormones were raging like a real New Jersey housewife who ran out of her favorite wine in a box.

Following our four and a half hour mall adventure, Rachel was the proud owner of three new ensembles and I was simply owned by my own horniness. I had to endure my girlfriend practically performing a strip tease in _six_ dressing rooms that ended each time with her groping me wildly during intense make out sessions. I've said it once, I'll say it again… Fuck. My. Life. She managed to fire me up to a frenzy as she toyed with me and my weakness—her.

"_Quinnie, be a doll and help me pull down my skirt. My hands seem to be too clumsy. I believe you'd help me most effectively if you were on your knees."_

"_Quinn, I can't seem to zip this front zipper, and it would appear as if I need assistance. If I lift my shirt up, can you see what you can do?"_

"_Sweetie, it seems my breasts are lost in this oversized sweater. Could you feel around and make sure they're still there?"_

And the fucking icing on the cake wreck of my life, "_Quinnie, I'm afraid these jeans will be too tight on my womanhood. Will you slide your hand here and make sure there's enough room? Oh, I'm sorry. Did your hand get wet?"_

After the shameless scheming of my totally hot girlfriend, my only hope was that we could head home so she could ravage me on the side table of the hallway, just inside the door. That would be as far as I would make it. But, really, who was I kidding? Rachel wouldn't make this easy on me… she never did when it came to teasing.

From the mall, we made our way to a local floral shop. What she needed flowers for was beyond me and when I asked her, she responded with an award-winning monologue that professed the true romanticism of flora and the mental and spiritual benefits of aligning your thoughts with Mother Nature through the blossoms of the Earth. Shoot me. During the explanation regarding the truth behind a peace lily's name, I tuned out and just stared at the hypnotizing appeal of her lips. They moved so fluidly, together and apart, together and apart… I wondered if they'd be moving so smoothly tonight over my… _Damn it, Fabray! No wonder you've got a constant need down there. Keep your damn eyes off of her perfect lips. _

A couple of brief stops and a last at the post office put the cherry on top of my frustrated sundae—every goddamn time she got out of the car, she managed to drop her keys upon exit, giving me a sneak peak of just how wet she was from our shopping mall rendezvous.

So now, here I was sexually frustrated, still sore from the previous evening's activities, and in the beginning stages of starvation—we hadn't eaten lunch_. Nothing like a trifecta to start my "unforgettable evening."_ I turned to the look at myself in the mirror one more time. My hair was straightened and the yellow dress hugged my body well. Smoothing my hands over the fabric, I glanced at the red numbers again—7:14. _"Showtime,"_ I thought… and boy was I right.

I descended the basement stairs in near darkness. The only light was found from the flickering candle placed on what I assumed was 'Table One.' The flowers Rachel bought earlier graced the table as well, looking stunning against the white table cloth. The setting looked beautiful. Rachel sometimes surprised me with how sweet she could be when it came to romance. On the stage sat the ever so faithful karaoke machine and microphone, and in the sitting area, a projector and the movie screen were poised and waiting. My mind immediately thought of _Funny Girl_, but then I remembered that pay back was scheduled for our traditional movie nights. I sighed a bit of relief.

As I moved closer to the table that was actually larger than I originally thought, I noticed the detail on the table—the elegant places, the crystal glasses, silver utensils, and long white table cloth. A name card in gold cursive writing indicated where I should sit. I pulled the chair out and sat down. The clock on the wall said 7:15. Fabrays are always on time. My eyes were scanning the room for Rachel, but to my disappointment she wasn't anywhere to be seen. Waiting was never an action at which I particularly excelled, so in an anxious display, I rapped my fingertips on the tabletop in front of me. No sooner than my fingers had finished one four-tap cycle, I felt something brush my ankle. _What the hell?_ Maybe I was imagining that, but just seconds after the first touch, I felt another—light and soft. I looked around nervously wondering if Rachel had a cat I didn't know about. But then with a third, firmer touch, my eyes widened with understanding. Those were Rachel's lips… _Holy shit! Rachel's under the table?_

The shock wore off quickly as the next kiss was pressed to the inside of my left calf. I had no idea where this was coming from, but I really, really hoped I knew where it was going. I placed both of my hands flat on the table top and shut my eyes as I imagined what she looked like under the table on her knees.

My imagination wasn't letting me down as her hands entered the tender assault. Her fingertips swirled around and over my kneecaps, keeping her lips and tongue busy as they traced each of my shins. I, for fear that I would somehow manage to screw myself into not getting some release, kept my mouth shut and endured the pleasant agony in silence. As if Rachel read my mind, her sexy voice travelled from under the table. The breath from her words washed over the skin between my knees.

"Baby, I've kept you waiting all day, and while I enjoy seeing you flustered, the guilt is killing me. You will _come_ in the next ten minutes, Quinn. And I need you to tell me how you're feeling. Can you do that for me, Sweetie? You know how I love feedback on my performances."

_Yes! Fuck, yes! I love you, I love you, I love you! _"Yes, Rachel, I can tell you how it feels."

"Good girl, Quinnie. Also, do me a favor and don't lift the table cloth… use your imagination."

"Already done, baby."

I felt her smile into the inside of my left knee as her lips fell against my skin once more. The contact was broken, and I almost whined my disapproval, but the rule-follower in me fought against it. I was finally going to be taken care of and damned be anything that would stop that from happening. Her touch was reinstated when the fingertips that were swirling earlier hooked around to the backs of my knees as she gently slid my lower half down the chair. My dress was folded further up my thighs as her fingers dipped into the waistband of the cotton that remained the last barrier between my lady and my woman. Slowly, the garment slid down to my ankles, and Rachel lifted each of my feet from it, but not without placing a hot open-mouth kiss to the insides of both ankles. She placed them on the carpet and brought her hands to the inside of my thighs.

After a few lazy circles, her palms flattened to the outside and tenderly spread my legs outward. I felt her body nuzzle between my wide open appendages and I shuddered as a fingertip swiped at my wetness that was sure to be evident upon sight.

"Mmm, Baby, your taste…" rose from under the table cloth and I could hear the sucking noise she was making on her finger.

"Please, Rachel, my body needs you." I spoke honestly. At this point I was about to hump the damn leg of the table if I didn't come. Her gentle touches were pushing me quickly toward my goal, but I was wanted that tongue. Thank my lucky stars, her tongue wanted me, too.

The warm heat that parted my folds sent a jolt through me and my hands gripped the cloth beneath them. Her talented muscle dragged its length from my entrance to my ever-so-needing clit. On first touch of my stiffening bud, I moaned out more powerfully than I thought possibly.

"O-oh, Rachel, yes, baby."

Spurred on by my words, Rachel wrapped her lips around the bundle of nerves and sucked firmly, pulsing her sucks with what seemed like my heartbeat.

"Fuck," I breathed out.

She released her lips and spoke, accentuating each word with a lick to my slit, "Feel…good,… Quinnie?

"Yes, so good. Only you make me feel this good."

"Aww, Sweet Girl. I think that deserves something in return."

Her tongue immediately traveled to where I loved it most… inside. She plunged with a purpose into my wet heat and was greeted by more of my arousal. She pulled her tongue from me and lapped at the smooth liquid. Swallowing all she could, she thrust the muscle once more and set a steady pace sure to please me.

"That's it, Rachel. Oh, so good, baby. Oh shit…"

Her speed increased as my hips bucked responsively. Somewhat pinned between the chair and table, I could only slightly rock them in rhythm, but I've come to find that Rachel's tongue can pretty much handle my needs itself. She slowed again and licked a broad stripe with her flattened tongue, connecting with my clit. My breath caught at the touch and I almost came.

"Now, Quinnie," she spoke assertively, bringing her thumb to rub tight circles on my clit, no doubt to placate me in her tongue's absence. "In about one minute, I'm going to ask you to come around my tongue. I want to feel that rough spot clench on me and I do expect to hear you scream my name. Am I clear?"

Willing myself to hold back my orgasm at her words alone, (her voice was sexy as fuck) I choked out a response.

"Yes, Rachel, crystal clear."

"Who's Crystal, Quinnie? Do I need to remind you to whom you belong?" she asked playfully.

"No, Rachel, only yours… will only ever be yours."

"Good girl."

With a chuckle, she dipped her tongue in me again and set a furious pace, deepening each thrust until her tongue curled and touched against my roughened patch.

"A-ah!"

"There it is…"

Her fingers continued circling and pinching and rubbing at my aching hooded nub while her tongue beat against my spot rhythmically. She felt my tight hole clench tighter and scraped the fingernails of her free hand down my thigh, never relenting her savage pattern on my clit. I was close… so close.

"Please, Baby, so close… mmm!"

Instantly, vibrations were pulsing from her tongue straight to my pussy as I realized she was moaning into me. I gripped the cloth beneath my fingers as hard as could to keep from reaching down and holding her face tight to my core.

"Fuck! Oh, yes…"

The contact was instantly lost and she called out desperately, "Come for me, Quinn!"

At that her tongue was inside me, hard against my rough and clenching pussy; she moaned like a goddamn porn star; and pinched my clit firmly.

"Ahhh, RAACHELL!"

I screamed at the top of my lungs not because she had instructed me to do so earlier, but because my orgasm took over my brain function and clearly, that was the name on its lips. She stayed deep inside me until the waves of contractions calmed and she had swallowed all that I gave her. Her fingers kept a gentle massaging pace until I slumped further in my chair. She ran her hands up and down my legs as I broke back into real world consciousness. When my body gained control, I release the table cloth and I felt Rachel fold down my dress once again. She obviously saw no need for replacing my underwear because as soon as the dress was down, she crawled sexily from under the table and stood in front of me.

I almost passed out again as I took in the sight of her. Rich brown, loose curls fell over her shoulders that were clad with an oversized white, long-sleeved collared dress shirt buttoned twice in the middle, and from between the gaping fabric below her waist, greeted me a perfectly shaped 8-inch silicone appendage.

As Rachel took in my gaping mouth and hungry eyes, she whispered the words I wasn't expecting to hear until next week.

"It's time to pay up, Quinnie…"

**A/N**


	6. My Man

**A/N #1: Night Two comin' atcha. For all of the nice reviews and your patience, I thank you sincerely. This installment has a bit more angst and fluff in the plot for those of you who appreciate some feeling to your filth. If not, too bad, you can skip to the middle. **

**A/N #2: WARNINGS: food, feelings, fucking, and fluff.**

**A/N #3: I do not own these characters or **_**Funny Girl**_**. Sadly, all I own are mistakes.**

Chapter 3: The end of _Funny Girl_ – Night Two

And now, the conclusion of… "My Man"

_Funny Girl _was now playing in the background, projected on the screen behind me. I couldn't place the location from where it started playing, but it seemed that it was somewhere near the beginning. My mind flailed as I took in the sight before me and tried to gain even a thread of sanity. Rachel was standing in front of me and looked as though she was waiting for a response. I strung together some syllables as best as I could in that moment.

"Hhomm-kay." I blinked rapidly, hoping that action would push away the haze in my head.

Rachel shook her head at me and giggled softly. Fixing her eyes on mine she smiled brightly and said, "That good, hmm?"

To my surprise she walked away from me like she wasn't half naked with a strap on standing at attention and headed behind the bar. Her confidence was dangerously high and that meant tonight could potentially be volatile. Of course, I didn't know how much more wild tonight could be compared to the sexual rapture we experienced last night. All I knew was that sometime in the next hour, I would be making good on the second night of my consequence.

When she returned, she was holding two covered platters—one she placed in front of me and the other at her place setting.

"Hungry, Quinn?" she voiced with a sexy smirk.

I nodded in the affirmative and she tilted her head and raised her eyebrow at me pointedly.

"Yes, Rachel, I am."

"Good girl."

With a curt nod, her face returned to Pleasantville and she lifted the cover off of my plate. There sat the most delicious looking double bacon cheeseburger I had ever seen. In fact, it looked a lot like the same burger straight out of that fantasy I had that one time where Rachel and the cheeseburger were on top of… um, never mind… (Don't judge me; I see you judging!) The resemblance of the two burgers was uncanny and I shook off the ridiculous thought that perhaps Rachel had snuck into my psyche once more with her freakish psychic powers. _No… just no…_

My face lit up as I looked at the whopping sandwich in front of me and I beamed pure joy at my girlfriend who, from what I could see in her eyes at that moment, loved me more than anything else.

"My goodness, Quinn, you're beautiful."

I blushed as she raked in the sight of me sitting across from her. Fully clothed (almost), I felt so exposed and so completely vulnerable under her gaze and my eyes retreated to the plate in front of me. When she looked at me like that, I felt like the purest of saints and the worst of sinners.

"Quinn…" passed her lips in a pleading, breathy tone, "please don't hide from me."

I swallowed thickly and met her darkened stare. Smiling at her with my best attempt of confidence, I changed the subject.

"Shall we eat? I'd really hate to waste such a tasty masterpiece."

Out of what I imagine was compassion, she smiled again and answered me.

"Yes, we should. I've been thinking about this vegan lasagna all evening. Would you like a bite before you devour the poor beasts on your plate?"

We continued dinner much in the same fashion as _Funny Girl_ continued to play in the background. We laughed about the attendant in the dressing room and discussed her new outfits and talked about National's and had lovely conversation as we enjoyed our meals. I was so engrossed in our time spent together, I had practically forgotten about the bet, that is until Rachel stood to clear the plates and place them behind the bar.

Barbra's voice came crashing into my utopia and the warm fuzzy feelings were ripped from my midsection while simultaneously being replaced by a sexually charged tension in my lower abdomen. Rachel still had something planned for this evening and other than the silicone between her legs, I knew nothing else of what was involved. As she rounded the bar, she brought with her a simply wrapped package. It was covered in glossy white paper and was topped with a single gold bow. She stopped next to me and placed it on the table where my place setting had been.

"Open it, Quinn."

I obeyed. Not wanting to make a mess of the paper—it was never allowed on Fabray Christmas mornings—, I carefully pulled through the paper and was presented with a small rectangular, unmarked box. I lifted the lid and there sat on white satin, a harness and an attached 7-inch dildo, gold glittered. _Are you kidding me? Only Rachel…_ I furrowed my brow at the items and looked up questioningly at Rachel. _What the fuck was this? Ohmygod, was she going to have me wear this? I'd never… we'd never… oh help me._

About that time I hear the opening notes of Barbra's "My Man." That's what this was all about. I was going to wear a strap-on for the first time in my life and it was going to accompany a musical number from a Barbra Streisand movie. _Well, fucking hell._ About that time, the movie stopped but Rachel's voice continued.

"Oh my man I love him so," with that she took my hand from the edge of the box and lifted it gently, raising me to my feet. Running the palms and pads of her fingers over the skin on my arms, she sang looking directly into my eyes, "He'll never know…" I gasped gently at the fucking clarity of her voice. She wanted me and her voice made me want her, whatever the stipulations.

She trailed off, lifting the yellow dress up and over my head then reaching into the box that lay open on the table. She pulled the harness from the satin and kneeled slowly in front of me. _This cannot be happening! I don't even know what to do with this. _My nervousness must have been apparent because Rachel looked up at me and cooed slowly, "Relax, Quinnie… trust me." Hundreds of scenarios raced through my mind, but the biggest question was, "_If she's putting this on me, why is she wearing one?_" She lifted my left foot and then my right into the harness. As she dragged the straps up my thighs, she sang again.

"All my life is just despair,

But I don't care…"

Satisfied with the placement of the straps, Rachel skimmed my appearance hungrily. I felt so incredibly awkward with my pseudo-appendage leaning out away from my body. The straps felt odd around my hips and the material that was brushing my clit felt foreign and dirty. Whatever insecurities I was feeling seemed unimportant when my girlfriend assumed her position of authority and spoke.

"Sit down, Quinn."

I stepped back to sit in my dinner chair, but her hand caught me. "No, not there. _That_ chair."

I hadn't noticed the single wooden chair sitting alone in the middle of the stage. How did I miss that earlier? I really need to learn how to pay attention to detail. I scolded myself until Rachel's voice interrupted me.

"_Now_, Quinnie. Please don't make me wait. As you know, I'm very impatient when it comes to things I want."

"Yes, Rachel."

She smacked my ass as I walked toward the stage.

"Aah!"

The action made me jump and my hand automatically went to soothe the still tender flesh. I looked over my shoulder at my girlfriend and saw a playful smirk taking up residence above her chin. Her eyes were twinkling with mischief. Playful and seductive—that's what her eyes were telling me tonight.

My mind brought me back to the first time I experienced this side of her. It was about two months into our relationship and her fathers were at a Christmas party for her Daddy's office staff. They planned on being out very late. Rachel invited me to hers for the evening, and we watched all of the classic cartoon Christmas programs, enjoying some holiday cookies and eggnog—the non-alcoholic kind of course for Berry-two-shoes. Even though they were Jewish, they still participated in the secular aspects of Christmas. After the shows, we turned on some holiday music and opted for some Scrabble. I was just about to clench victory when a familiar tune wafted from the speakers of their sound system.

"_Santa Baby, slip a sable under the tree, for me_

_I've been an awful good girl…" _

_Rachel squealed, "QUINN, oh my goodness, I love this song! Go and turn it up."_

_I humored her clear delight at hearing the song that played _everyhour_ on our local radio station during this time of year. Making my way to the stereo, I heard Rachel rustling in the background and already singing along to one of her obvious favorites. I smiled to myself, and as I spun to return to my place at the table, my jaw dropped upon seeing Rachel minus her reindeer sweater, wearing only her red bra and matching plaid skirt. She curled her finger at me and placed a Santa hat atop my head as I took a place of honor. She continued to sing along sexily with the lyrics as she caressed this bit of skin and pulled at that handful of hair while dipping and rolling her body over mine as if it were a prop._

"_Santa baby, forgot to mention one little thing, a ring."_

_A tiny flicker of seriousness flashed through her eyes at this lyric. It was definitely too soon to discuss in our relationship, but my heart fluttered at the thought of being connected to Rachel for the rest of my life. In response, I pulled her down into my lap and as she finished the final verse of the song and wrapped her arms around my neck, I thought about those three little words and how, for the first time in my life, saying them to the girl in front of me, they would be true._

_When my expression changed, Rachel trailed off, glancing downward, "So hurry down the chimney tonight…"_

"_I love you."_

_Her eyes snapped back to mine, littered with confusion and hope. "What did you say?"_

"_I love you."_

_She smiled so sincerely and whispered out, "I love you too, Quinn."_

That night, Rachel and I made love instead of fooled around. It was probably one of the only nights in our whole relationship where I took the lead in our activities. I know now that she was ultimately the one allowing it, but I savored it and still thought of it often. That night, I fell in love with sexy and playful Rachel Berry.

Breaking away from the happy memory, my mind focused on the situation at hand. I sat gingerly in the chair on the stage. I could see the version of "My Man" continuing in slow motion on the screen in the distance and as I looked back to where I had left my sexy girlfriend, all lights were extinguished, even Barbra. A spotlight suddenly landed against my pale skin and the glittering appendage that sat at attention in front of me. Damn the Berrys and their need for everything Broadway. Of course they would have a blinding spotlight! I couldn't see anything among the shadow and squinted my eyes, calling for Rachel.

"Um, Rach? What's go—"

I was cut off as a blindfold fell over my eyes. My instant reaction was to bring my hands up to the cloth, but they were halted when a voice tickled the shell of my ear.

"Uh-uh, Quinnie. Put your hands down to your side and keep them there. No touching until I say so."

"Yes, Rachel." The words that had fallen from my mouth so many times in the last 36 hours, automatically sounded off of my tongue. (I know I'm whipped, but can you blame me?)

With one more tug at the knot behind my head, the blindfold was secured and all contact lost. I sat there a few moments trying to hone in on any movement, but with the quality of the wood used for the stage, there were no squeaks to hear. My ears were put on high alert, however, when I heard the distinct contact between what I assumed were high heels on the wooden floor. They were behind me and very quickly were accompanied by soft, but clear singing.

"When he takes me in his arms…" She was behind me now and her fingertips traced random shapes over my forearms, her breath against the back of my neck, drifting to my left side as she began again, "The world is bright, all right."

Her touch was lost again as the sound of her heels circled around in front of me.

"What's the difference if I say, I'll go away?" She broke off and asked me with sternness in her voice, topped with a dose of curiosity. "What _would_ you do if I went away, Quinn? What would you do without me?"

And suddenly, another moment of clarity hit me like a grape slushy. I definitely did not like where this was going. That's what she was going to push with me tonight. All of the times I was able to change the subject about how deep my love ran for her. My clever girlfriend was finally able to put me in a position where I had to answer her questions. It made me love her and hate her at the same time.

She walked to me and braced herself with her hands on my knees, her breath dancing over my face, no doubt bending at the waist.

"I asked you a question, Quinnie, and I want an answer."

"I-I… don't know, Rachel."

"Don't give me that ignorant bullshit, Quinn. The question is simple enough. What would you do without me?"

"I…," hesitating and racking my brain for some way out of this whole situation, I stayed silent.

"Quinn," her voice was right at my lips, "answer the question."

There was a silent request in her seeming demand. She needed to hear my answer just as much as I needed to say it.

"I think I-I would…" I stuttered once again and paused, hoping she would stop pushing me. Fuck, was she persistent.

"What, Quinn? You would what?" She seemed to be getting irritated with my lack of vocabulary and seemed to wait one last time.

I sighed in surrender, my chest heaving at the claustrophobic situation I found myself in. _Fine! If she wanted to know that badly, I would tell her_.

"I think I would die, Rachel. Without you I would… die."

It came out as barely a whisper, but Rachel and her bionic hearing, tensed her hands that were clasped around my thighs now and her breath hitched the way it did before she began to cry. At that moment, the blindfold was ripped from my eyes and I grimaced, thinking I would be instantaneously blinded by the spotlight. When no intense light hit the outsides of my lids, I opened them slowly. There was Rachel's face, near flush against mine and I pulled my head back slightly to see her in focus. When I did, there was an aura of spotlight outlining her hair and an intimate shadow across her face. The darkness, however, didn't deceive me as I saw the effects of my confession in her eyes. A single tear breached the confines of her eye and she wiped it quickly from her cheek.

As I opened my mouth to ask her if she was okay, she stopped my action by beginning to sing once more.

"… When I know…"

Keeping a tight grip on my legs, she lowered herself, spread eagle, sitting back against her heels. My eyes were glued to her position in front of me and my gold appendage. Fuck, no wonder guys want girls on their knees. Three words: Sexy as hell. The view from my position made me gush at my center as I felt the arousal drip onto the chair.

She leaned forward and slowly licked the tip of strap-on. It wobbled a bit from the force and due to its positioning against my bundle of nerves, the movement went straight to my clit as though it was an actual extension of my body. Shit. I never imagined it could feel this way. She pushed my knees outward roughly and, one knee at a time, knelt down between my thighs as she sang the next line.

"I'll come back on my knees someday…"

_Fuck, really, Barbra? Dirty…_ Scraping her fingernails along the skin of my calves, most of the tenderness from moments ago had been replaced in her eyes by hunger and want. She spoke to me in a voice I don't ever recall hearing. It was deep and dark, soft and controlled and dripping with arousal.

"I seem to still be hungry, Quinn. Feed me?"

She adamantly kept her eyes trained to mine, now overthrown by damn near animalistic instinct. I wanted her, but more specifically, I wanted her on my cock however I could have her—sucking me, riding me, anything to recreate that friction. And slowly, my desire was sated. Rachel's lips parted sensually, her eyes never leaving mine, as she lowered her head to just above the tempting member.

I blinked twice before I realized what she wanted. I gasped for breath, more forcefully as a second gulp was swallowed when I realized I had stopped said action as she lowered herself to her knees. Tentatively, I raised my right arm observing her reaction to see if this was, in fact, what she wanted. A quick side glance to my rising hand and an increase in her already steady panting told me my thought was correct. Damn, she was kinky. I couldn't stop from licking my lips, and I felt a sense of uneasiness come over me. I couldn't believe what she was going to have me do. When I hesitated with my hand at the back of her head she reminded me who was in charge, despite the current position.

"Quinnie, put your hand on the back of my head. I'm hungry for your cock, and we've well-surpassed the point of timidity. Don't you think?"

"Yes, Rachel." I hated how shaky my words were as they left my mouth. _Damn it, Fabray, get it together and please your woman._

I tangled my hand in her shiny chestnut mane as I brought her lips down around the head of my silicone cock. The imagery was enough to soak the chair under me—darkened chocolate eyes on mine, my hot girlfriend in nothing but a white dress shirt, blue strap-on jutting from underneath and black heels, kneeling in front of me sucking on my golden dick. Now, that's an unforgettable evening!

Keeping my hand still, she lowered more of her mouth around my member and the movement caused the most delicious friction on my clit. I moaned in response, "Ooohhh, fuck."

"Nnnnnhhhh," she responded as her head sunk lower in my lap. _Shit, is she going to take all of that?_ And the answer to that question was a "Fuck yes, she is!" She broke eye contact as she swallowed it to the hilt at the harness. The angle at which she held it there kept a constant pressure against my bundle of nerves . Then, suddenly, the pressure was gone and so was Rachel's mouth.

"You seem to like this, Quinn. Do you want me to suck your cock?"

She dipped all four fingers between my soaked lips beneath me, gathering my wetness on her hand. All verbal abilities were completely lost on me as she used my own arousal to stroke my appendage. My eyes were mesmerized, following the pattern her hand used up and down the golden dick. I found my body was focused, however, on the steady pattern of the much needed friction being produced between my legs. Before I realized my mistake in not answering, Rachel pulled her hand back and delivered a stern slap to my cock. A sharp jolt of pain layered with pleasure surged through my hooded bundle of nerves as I seeped more of my wetness to the pool gathered on the chair.

"Answer my question, Quinn! Do you want me to suck your cock?"

"Y-yes, fuck, yes, Rachel."

She resumed her stroking and prompted me again, lower and calmer this time, "Yes, what, Quinn?"

"Yes—"

Before I could finish my sentence, Rachel's mouth sheathed me once more.

"Pleeeaaase," I moaned. "Shit, Rachel. Baby, so good…" I continued as her head rose again before slamming down against my lap.

After repeating her actions three or four times—at this point, who the fuck is counting? She raised up again and said, "Mm, baby, you taste so good. I'm sooo hungry."

At that moment, I remembered that she had coated my cock with my cream and she reminded me of that as she gathered more to slather the appendage with. My pussy clenched as her fingers swirled and an involuntary sound escaped my jerking body.

"A-ahh! Fuck, Rachel, please!"

I had no idea what I was asking her for—to keep sucking me or to keep sliding her fingers at my slit. All I knew in that moment was that I needed more of whatever she was going to give me.

"Quinnie, don't beg. Clearly, I'm the one on my knees." I looked at her, stunned by her words. There was Rachel pulling off her "Dom from the bottom" bit, quite successfully I might add, while stroking my dick with my own juices. She continued her verbal assault on my self-control, while looking up at me with her best "I'm-so-innocent" eyes, "So, like a good slut, I'm begging you—Quinn, may I suck you? Please, baby?"

_Well, fuck me. How do I play this game_? Once again, plagued with a monosyllable vocabulary, I responded in a flat voice, "Yes."

"Oh, thank you, Quinnie. I promise I won't disappoint."

Holy shit. Was she serious? I'd never been disappointed with her a day in our relationship and today was definitely not going to be any different. Her head dipped lower, my hand guiding her, as flushed lips sucked in the tip of the cock. My head rolled back at the sensation, once more reveling in the fact that this golden glittered silicone seemed to become an extension of my own anatomy. I told her so.

"Fuck, Rach. I can feel everything."

She smiled as best she could while her lips were wrapped around gold, and she began a steady pace, sucking and bobbing, pulling off every so often to trace her tongue down my length and swirl it around the tip. With every tug and lick she made, I felt my orgasm building.

"Rachel, I'm… shit… I'm getting close…"

When the movement halted, I snapped my head back to see nothing short of a sex goddess staring back at me. Her hair was tousled, her lips were colored a flushed pink that seemed to match her cheeks, and her eyes were black as night. She had stopped because she didn't want me to come yet. Not this way, at least. I saw it in her expression.

"Quinn, I want to keep swallowing your cock if you'll let me, but if you think I've been good enough, I'd like to have you come around my fingers while I suck you down. Can I, Quinnie? Pretty please?"

Whatever this game was that Rachel was playing, I liked it. I liked it very much.

"Yes, Rachel, fucking yes."

"Thank you, baby. Oh and Quinn, I think good cocksluts deserve to have their hair pulled and to be told to suck it."

There were the instructions on how I was going to reach the Promised Land. I was to grab and pull at her hair and tell her to suck my dick. I hesitated all of one fraction of a second, but the HBIC that had been excluded from our previous encounters suddenly surfaced with no thought of consequence later. So, in a startling new development, my dominance that I once held in other relationships broke free and ran wild. My hands gripped her hair roughly and my name as a moan escaped her as a question from her lips.

"Qui-inn?"

"Enough talking, Rachel. Suck it."

Her eyes recognized the shift in dominance and she looked –what was that? Excitement? Fear? Maybe, a little of both? I didn't care in that moment as my alter ego took the reins.

"I don't think you heard me, Rach. I told you to… Suck." I pushed her lips over the head stopping about half-way down the shaft before bringing them off again. "My." I repeated the action. "Cock." I brought her down to the hilt this time and heard her moan when hit bottom. She wanted this and so did I. She began a rhythm that was completely made better when I barked another command, grabbing her hand from my thigh and shoving it at my core.

"You wanted to fuck me so badly you were begging me for it. Now use those slender little fingers of yours to fuck my pussy while you suck me. Don't make me tell you again."

Her actions told me she was aiming to please—whether out of arousal or obedience or fear. She was looking to get me off fast. My inner bitch in charge was taking over and seemed unaffected by the warning playing over and over in my head. _You don't want to do that… Really… You really don't want to do that_. Fuck. Yes, I do.

"Feel how wet I am, Rachel? It's only fair that you get me off after making me so wet. Taste that cock, Rach. Feel that pussy clench on your fingers. Did I ever tell you how good you look on your knees and begging for me? So good, Rachel."

She was bobbing her head at breakneck (sorry, it I couldn't resist…) speed, creating a suction that managed to stroke my throbbing clit. Her fingers scissored inside of me alternating their assault on my rough spot.

"Fuck, I'm almost there, baby. Don't you dare stop. Take it! Make me come, Rachel!"

With that, a particularly harsh tug from her teeth, and a precise thrust of her fingers, I came hard. Really hard. Shuddering in the chair, she slowed the movement of her head still swallowing me up and down and made deliberate strokes inside my pussy to calm the waves. I breathed out shakily and released my hands from her hair. I didn't want to open my eyes because I knew that little display was going to have me in trouble. I savored the moment, gearing myself up for whatever punishment I was going to receive. Cracking my eyes open slowly, the inner head bitch retreated like a coward, but not before throwing Rachel Berry's bitch in front of her to grovel.

"R-Rachel… I am—"

"For _whatever_ my man is," she stood, singing in front of me pushing every emotion from her being into her eyes—love, lust, anger, excitement, arousal, confusion, and intrigue—all staring at me as she stood over me. She lifted her left leg over my right, "I am…" Her right leg hooked over my left as she grabbed the backrest of my chair at my shoulders, "his…" And as if it was happening in fucking slow motion, she pushed herself down onto my head of gold.

"Oh, damn, baby." I looked down at the sight of her… the dress shirt slightly open for me to see the valley of skin between her breasts and her hard nipples that peaked through the shirt; the crisp white cotton flanking her perfect tanned thighs that draped my pale ones; and the bright blue cock forgotten, propping snugly against my abdomen.

"Foree-evveermore." Her breath fought to stay even as she moaned out the last of the lyric, lowering herself onto me completely, the harness putting pressure on my still recovering slit.

The feeling was too much and my mind blurted a string of nonsense before it found a word to comprehend. "Oh, a-ah, mmh, sh… fuck!"

Rachel raised up, dragging my length from her tight channel, fingers curled at the base of my neck. My hands found a home high on either side of her waist, and I gripped her sides, aiding her in her movement. And as she sheathed herself once more, Barbra's words fell from her lips again in a steady seductive tone.

"Oh my man, I love him sooo, " she rolled her hips and raised up and clenched, pulling my cock with her before slamming down on it again. "He'll never know…"

Wanting to be an active participant in this performance, I responded to her line as she rocked against my body with vigor. "I do know Rachel, I know." My hands found her breasts against the stark white shirt and a I kneaded them with every ounce of emotion I could as my hips bucked in response to hers. I was officially addicted to the feeling I had surging through my body. I wanted nothing more than to fuck my girlfriend and to make her feel every inch of me inside and out. I wanted to put my hands on her and I wanted hers on me. A moan escaped her as we moved in sync, everything now becoming about need and desire. It was fucking delicious.

"All my life is just despair," she sang with her eyes shut and a look of pure agony on her face—the kind of agony you feel when everything is throbbing, pulsing and all you're seeking is a release. "But I don't care," she continued, increasing her pace. "When he takes me in his arms…" She trailed off and snapped her eyes to mine. I understood her gaze and ran my arms around her slender waist, using my flattened palms to draw her closer to me and pressing hot open-mouth kisses to the skin of her exposed chest.

She trembled as my hands continued to grip at her back and my lips skimmed her chest. She sang again then spoke evenly, "The world is bright, all right... I love you, Quinn." She paused then continued, "Fuck me. Do it, Quinnie. Make me all right."

I bucked my hips dramatically at her words and she moaned out my name. I met her rapidly moving hips as the muscles inside her managed to stroke the appendage attached to me. I felt the building of something amazing in the pit of my stomach as the harness intensified its assault from Rachel's downward thrusts on my clit and the wetness between my legs slopped between my pussy and the wood of the chair. I was getting so close and my now sporadic thrusts proved that.

Sensing the onslaught of my orgasm, Rachel slowed her movements and locked eyes with whatever sanity she could find in mine. Her recently powerful voice sang to me now in a clear wanting tone , "What's the difference if I say, I'll go away…"

I interjected, "Don't. Don't ever go away."

She smiled with all of the love in her heart and sang on with a reassuring smirk, shaking her head knowingly, "When I know I'll come back on my knees someday."

I matched her smile at this and our movement began again. I took the break in her singing as an opportunity to tell her how I was feeling, what she was making me feel.

"Ohmygod, Rach, I love you so much. You make me feel so good, baby. Keep fucking me, please! I need you. I've always needed you. Come with me, Rachel. Let me make you feel."

Answering my plea, she immediately rolled her hips as she raised and lowered herself on my dick, tugging at the appendage with her wet heat.

"For whatever my man is…"

Instantly, my mind grasped the familiar feeling from the night before. This was our climax. It was our show and it was time to bring it home.

"Please, Rachel, Oh god…"

She pounded with abandon against my lap as my orgasm bubbled its way up.

"I am his…"

"Oh, fuck, please! Fucking shit, o-oh…

I thrust hard into her. "AAAHH, Yes! Quinn! I'm coming! Fuck baby… all yours!"

Her body shook from her release and her pussy clenched down on me. I was too far gone to notice she and my brain finished out the lyric.

"FOREVER!" I cried out as I slammed into her one last time for my sake, sending my orgasm in waves over my body and pulsing inside hers. And when her spent body slumped against mine with her lips to my shoulder, I turned my head and whispered the final syllable of the word, "more."

Using the last of my strength, I wrapped my hands firmly around her backside keeping her snug tightly on my golden appendage. I lifted both of us from our seated position and was never more thankful for my Cheerios training. Stepping out of the spotlight, I paused and allowed my eyes to adjust to the darkness of the basement. When I could see my destination, I walked carefully to the plush couch and gently raised Rachel off of me. I laid her down and covered her with a blanket off the back of the chair next to me. Trying to remember how Rachel put the harness on, I went to remove it. A few awkward trials later, I stepped out of the contraption and slid behind my girlfriend under the blanket. And with sleep coming to me quickly, I whispered a heartfelt monologue to the love of my life that would have hopefully made Barbra proud.

"I'm always going to be yours, you know that? I will always need you, Rach." I stared at the beauty spooned tightly to me. "My god. The hold you have on me? It's epic. It makes me feel wanted and secure, like you need me just as much as I need you, like the place where we belong is only with each other.

" I've only been with you six months, but I know you're the only one I will give everything to—my heart, my dream, my voice, my body. You have complete control over my past, my now, and my future." I paused as my hand began to stroke through her hair gently. "So, take it, Rach. Please. It's yours. I know now that it's always been yours. I guess I should've realized it just by the names I used to call you—every single one masculine—RuPaul, Treasure Trail, Manhands." I always hated that I had called her those things. It weighed on my heart and I think Rachel knew it. Feeling empowered by the silence, I admitted it for the first time to anyone and no one, but most of all to myself.

"I fucking gave you a masculinity to have power over me, and I didn't even fucking know it at the time. I wanted you to be that man, that man that could have control over me. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that you were never going to be that man. Instead, I realize it now. You're forever going to be that woman, that woman that has control, and it scared the shit out of me." What a fucking epiphany. Quinn_ fucking_ Fabray was scared. "I wasn't scared of men but I was scared of the fact that those names couldn't be farther from the truth, from what I want now." I stopped anxiously as it seemed her body shifted. Seeing no other movement, I continued on only having the courage because she was sleeping. "I won't ever want the clumsy hands, or the treasure trail, or the flat chest, or even the dick of a man because you're more than enough for me. You're the only person I want, Rach, man or woman, and I love you with everything I fucking have."

After I finished that particular part of my speech, I for some reason stopped and thought back to the events of the day—the dressing rooms, specifically. _Fuck_. All of those terrible excuses to get me to touch her—'my hands seem to be too clumsy' with her skirt, 'if I lift my shirt up' with the zipper in the front, 'my breasts are lost in this oversized sweater,' and 'too tight on my womanhood…will you slide your hand here' with the too tight pants. _Fuck me_. Rachel had all of that planned. She'd always been insecure that I would leave her for a man due to "my tendency as a once-religious Catholic to revert back to my former beliefs in a moment of gay panic." That's what her dominance has always been about in the bedroom—not only my fear, but hers—the chance that I would leave her. And why would she do all of that? Because my fucking mind was still stuck on the image of me having a man.

At that moment, I had a fucking epiphany. She dressed up for me in a _man's_ shirt, she had a _cock_ attached to her the entire evening, and she chose "_My_ fucking_ Man_" as the Barbra number. Rachel knew what I needed until I somehow figured this out. It became clear that she wasn't necessarily always a top in the bedroom, but she knew that that was what it would take to get me to this point. This point of _me_ fucking _her_. This point of me taking control. That's why she didn't react as my head bitch surfaced. That's why she put the strap-on on me. I didn't even touch hers. I didn't want hers. I wanted the control tonight. For the first time, I wanted it and I wanted it over a woman. And fucking hell, I took it. _That sneaky woman_.

I shook my head in hopes that all of that would fall nicely into well-organized piles that I could sort later. As I did, however, the files scattered when I heard someone speaking that didn't sound like my self-conscience.

"Quinn?" Her voice was shaky like she was fighting with her tongue to keep it from leaving her lips.

_Fuck. She was awake? Shit. Gay panic, gay panic, gay—You know what? No. No fucking way. I wasn't running from it anymore_. _Quinn fucking Fabray was going to take a stand_. Steadily, I calmed my breathing. I swallowed with difficulty and answered her.

"Yes, Rachel?"

"Do you mean that?" Hope and fear and want laced her words.

"With everything I am, Rach." I squeezed her tightly to me and we laid still as the spot hummed still lighting up the stage.

"Did I push too much? I always seem to want everything too much," she whispered.

"No, Rachel. I believe for once you wanted it just enough. Once again, you did what I couldn't do—tell the truth. I'm sorry I've been a coward. I know what I want now, Rachel. I want it forever, and it's because of you."

"What is that, Quinn?"

"You."

I knew this exchange wouldn't change everything. There was no doubt that I still liked to be dominated by Rachel, but the epic proportions of this event now told her that she was now going to have to share the stage every once in awhile. As I thought of this, my mouth worked itself into a smirk and we fell asleep on that basement couch.

**A/N #4: Love it or hate it. I merely try to please…**


	7. I Want to be Seen with You Tonight Pt 1

**A/N #1: The long-awaited final number… My apologies for the delay and to **_**LSKP**_** who has been oh-so-patient, hopefully this makes your day. Also, to those that I almost lost due to the plot monster, consider this a compromise… If you feel so moved, click the little Review button at the bottom of the page. If not, so be it. Enjoy…**

**A/N #2: WARNINGS: public sexytimes and the reappearance of Dom!Rachel.**

**A/N #3: I do not own these characters or **_**Funny Girl**_**. Sadly, all I own are mistakes.**

Chapter 4: _Funny Girl_ – Night Three

"I Want to be Seen with You Tonight"… Part 1

I woke up the next morning curled snugly facing the back of Rachel's basement sofa. Sadly, I realized I was alone on that couch. _Way to go, Fabray… you better not have fucked this up._ I didn't know what was worse—waking up alone on the couch or being chastised by your inner voice at what I assumed was way too early in the morning. Pushing aside my insecurity, I stretched out to the full length of the cushions, squeezing the sleep from my eyes, and lithely rolled to greet the rest of the basement.

As I opened my very tired eyes (the spotlight from last night was very unmerciful), I was startled by the still body sitting in front of me. Rachel sat on the floor, knees casually pulled to her chest with her chin resting atop her loosely draped arms. Her smile was brilliant even in the scarce, dim light of early morning. When I realized the smile she wore was sincere, all the uncertainties of the previous evening vanished as my lips then mimicked hers.

"Good morning, baby." She stroked her hand through my hair as I blinked away my morning haze and yawned.

"Mm, morning. What time is it?" I asked, already aware that it would be no later than 7:00.

"It's 7:00." _Bingo_. Like clockwork, literally. A weekend of new and glorious sex that pushed my body and my mind to the limits, almost a full 12 hours of constant teasing, _and_ a mental epiphany that Dr. Phil himself would've needed a drink after, and still, here I was awake at 7:00 in the freaking morning. I sighed at the rueful comfort that offered me.

"How long have you been sitting there, creepily watching your girlfriend sleep?" I smirked at her in an attempt to keep that smile on her face a bit longer and to push away any awkwardness I was feeling after my actions the night before.

"Oh, not long." She granted my wish and smiled brightly, then pressed on with a much-appreciated change of subject. "I was hoping we could have some breakfast together before my dads return home."

I nodded against the pillow under my head, but made no effort to move from my position. We both stayed there, her hand still threading through my messy locks, looking at each other. Something had happened between us last night, and with her looking at me the way she was, I almost, for the first time, felt like I was perhaps good enough for the amazing Rachel Berry.

Shortly after our contented staring contest, we had shared a pleasant meal talking about school the next week, the benefits of eating a well-rounded diet, and how completely unfair it was that we would have to share a room at National's. Apparently my totally hot girlfriend had some plans that were now going to be spoiled in light of us bunking with Santana and Brittany. Little did she realize rooming with them probably wouldn't exactly spoil our plans, it would simply add two participants, knowing them…which would be…_fuck me. That would be hot._ _Santana and Brittany and Rachel and..._

_Fabray!_

_What?_

_Cool it before you get yourself into some trouble, huh?_

Yup. The rest of the morning proved fairly uneventful, dirty foursome fantasy aside… that is, until I reached her front door on my way out. Rachel pulled me into her pressing her t-shirt and underwear clad body against me. I felt the heat from her smooth thighs sear into mine. She felt warmer than usual and I wondered for a minute if her psychic ability patched into my earlier "trio plus me" fantasy. Her hands wove themselves around my waist, applying an even, full pressure to my lower back. Looking down into her eyes, I saw a glimmer of adoration and hunger masked by the seriousness of a politician.

"Quinn…"

"Yeah?"

"Before you go, I just wanted to say that… I love you and that… I think I love you more right now than I have in our entire six month courtship. Now, I know last night may have been a bit… intense and new, not to mention incredibly hot…"

Her eyes swept beneath her lids as they darkened along with her cheeks as she no doubt recalled our activities. I nodded my agreement and wondered where she was going with this. Somewhere in the back of my mind, my HBIC was held on edge hoping she was going to be summoned back soon, but, damn it, if I didn't enjoy the dual pleasure of her being restrained and my body doing Rachel Berry's bidding. What can be said except that dominant Rachel Berry was my drug of choice. She shook the memory from her mind as she licked her lips and continued, silencing both my personas.

"But I want us to be clear about a couple of things…" her eyes cast a brief glance downwards between our melding bodies and then rejoined my gaze with a look I knew all too well. _Fucking. Yes. Wait for it, Fabray… _

"Number one—while the events of our previous evening together and the introduction of your more, um, assertive side not only continue to arouse me even as we speak, there should be no question that I still very much enjoy the role I've played in our sexual encounters. I do still intend to maintain my own assertiveness that has been displayed in past interactions. Do you understand what I'm saying,… _Quinnie_?"

_There it is. That's my girl. _I blinked as the excitement of her words pooled in my eyes and in the cotton beneath my shorts. Leave it to my girlfriend and her near obsessive need to express things in paragraphs.

Allow me to translate: "I thought it was hot how you dominated me last night, but that doesn't change the fact that I will still own you, bitch."

Shivers raced through me as my HBIC pouted and the bottom in me shouted a resounding, "_Yes, please!_" I smiled and breathed out shakily as I choked back the embarrassment of how turned on I was at her words. I couldn't help but feel a release of tension I didn't know was hiding in the muscles of my shoulders, and I answered her.

"Yes, I understand completely."

Her seriousness left without a trace as her bottom lip was coaxed between her teeth by her fetching tongue, and her eyes smiled at mine, her brow quirking up at my response. She recognized this as me falling back into the routine that satisfied and appealed to us both. It was one thing for me to understand that Rachel and I were equals in love, but truth be told, I was completely content to let her take the lead in anything sexual. I chalk it up to her excellence in the arts, a type of creative genius when it came to pleasing me.

"Good girl. You don't know how pleased I am to hear that. Then we can continue. Thing number two…"

Her voice was like sex in the morning—whispered and raw and sensual and dreamy. I didn't want to 'wake' out of my intoxication caused by the change in tone. My eyes shut tightly and I waited desperately for the next item on her agenda as her fingertips toyed with hem of my tank top. Focused on the feeling of her fingernails skimming my rapidly heating flesh, I was pleasantly distracted when I felt her lips softly part over my collar bone and a light suck pull at the skin covering it, her tongue pressing sensually at the opening of her mouth. My Barbra, she knew how to melt me.

"…If my memory serves me correctly, Quinn," she ghosted over my skin, "I believe you and I still have some unfinished business regarding a bet.. that has yet to be paid in full."

_Sweet Cheesus._

Rachel didn't say another word that morning as I left, but instead kissed me, pressing her lips to mine evenly. Then she stepped back from our embrace, turned on heel, and opened her front door, escorting me out. I was too turned on to ask what she had in store and I knew she wouldn't have told me if I was able to formulate the words. So, without a clue as to what would happen in the following days, I drove home to ponder.

Five days later, on Friday afternoon, Rachel made her way to my locker as I placed my books inside. She approached me from behind and leaned forward delivering her greeting in my ear.

"Hi, _Quinnie_."

It was low and dripping of sex.

"Fuck," I said at a whisper as I dropped the last of my textbooks, tumbling over the edge of the locker to the floor.

"Language," she purred and my knees buckled.

_Really, Rachel? This from the girl whose bedroom vernacular would make a porn star blush? _I instinctively bent down to pick up the book and as I moved to stand again, I noticed the legs that caused a constant drought in my mouth. My eyes trailed a bit more slowly than my body, but as I reached her waist just above her criminally short skirt, I stopped. There in her hands was a gold gift bag donning a white ribbon. My brow knit together as I suddenly panicked.

_The fuck? Shit, is it some sort of anniversary? No, I don't think so. What am I missing?_

I stood up quickly, searching for an answer in Rachel's expression. There was none to my chagrin. At this point, if it was something I overlooked, I was already screwed, so I decided to be honest.

"Sorry, Rachel. H-hey. What is that?" I gestured to her package and she smiled.

"This?" She held the bag up and I nodded dumbly. "It's for you. It's not for anything in particular so you can relax." My shoulders eased. "I just thought you would maybe like to, perhaps, wear these… tonight."

"Um, okay, we were going out tonight and then hanging out with your dads, right?" I was perplexed by what the bag might hold. We were supposed eat out tonight (no pun intended), then join the father figures for game night.

"Oh, yes, we are. It's nothing. Really," she said with her dazzling show smile.

I should've known then that this was definitely not going to be 'nothing.' My mind tried to configure as many possibilities as I could fathom. She was brushing past me on her way out of school when I rejoined my surroundings, and I turned as she stopped by my side.

"I still very much… want to be seen with you tonight. Be sure to wear them along with that blue skirt I like, would you? I'd hate to be disappointed."

The words she left me with seemed out of place. I felt like they were familiar, but I know she's never said them. It didn't make sense. We were always out and seen. From the start of our relationship and based on the fact that both of us hadn't had the best track record with prior relationships, we decided that openness would be the best bet. Since then we went to the movies and restaurants, the theater and the mall, all the while holding each other and sharing public pecks. I turned to question her words, only to be met with the sight of my sexy-assed girlfriend pushing through the front doors.

_What the hell did she mean?_

Two hours later, standing in front of my bathroom mirror, I sized up the 'gift' my clearly shameless girlfriend gave me. My eyes second-guessed the fabric in my hands as I tried to unscramble the confusion associated with the situation. Why would Rachel buy me sexy underwear to wear on a night we were to spend in public _and_ with her fathers. It didn't add up, and it troubled me seeing as I was particularly competent in math.

To make matters more perplexing, the garment seemed heavy and the crotch of the damn panties felt as though it held something hidden between the layers. I examined them beneath my fingertips, steeled myself in the mirror, and breathed out once more before I slipped them on, finding that they fit snugly to my skin and tight to my clit under the blue skirt Rachel loved so much. I had a feeling this was going to be a long night.

It was six o'clock when I threw my car in park in front of Rachel's house. I sat slightly uncomfortably in the present my loving girlfriend gave me, waiting in the car as her text requested of me. A few moments later, I caught sight of the very Berry men sending their daughter out of the house with a hug and kiss from both of them. She skipped lightheartedly from them as they said their goodbyes. I smiled and waved at them from the car and they offered me a similar gesture. Both of them loved me from the beginning. _I got skills—what can I say_?

Rachel got in the car and leaned in to kiss me chastely as per our routine when her fathers were watching. I knew as soon as we reached the stop sign, she would drop the innocent act and take what was hers. We pulled to the stop at the end of her street and I turned out of reflex, waiting for her to kiss me deeply. Instead, she met my eyes and smiled approvingly as she took in my attire.

"Sweetie, with you on my arm, looking like that…" her voice trailed off as her eyes devoured me. "Let's give this town a light, shall we?"

She slowly leaned in and pressed a steamy open-mouth kiss to the skin on my neck, and as I tried to process both her sexiness and her words, something triggered in my brain telling me the latter was familiar. As she retreated back to her place in the passenger seat, I raked my eyes over her. She wore dark blue skin-tight jeans that hugged her well and a cream colored peasant blouse that hung off of one shoulder. I mentally high-fived myself. _Damn hot, Fabray._ Smiling at that, I pushed on the gas, heading for dinner.

We arrived at the restaurant and were immediately seated. Rachel had called ahead and made arrangements for us to have the table center of the restaurant. It wasn't usually our style to sit in the open. Not that we were ashamed, it's just that both of us held similar beliefs on an acceptable amount of PDA and a more private corner allowed us to push our boundaries a bit.

As the hostess seated us adjacent to each other at the four-person table, I subconsciously made note that my girlfriend stopped humming. For the entirety of the drive, Rachel had hummed a familiar tune, never outright singing the lyrics, but it was something I knew. The humming itself was something I was used to by now. It was Rachel Berry—music flowed from her in one form or another. I personally preferred the dirty form of reaching those high notes.

We ordered from our menus and sat quietly until Rachel spoke up as the waiter walked away.

"You look beautiful tonight, Quinn. You wore the skirt I asked you to, and I can't help but think you're like glitter decorating my arm."

I smiled brightly as the compliment. Rachel always had a way to bring everything back to something sparkly. It was just her personality.

"I can only hope you were as accommodating…" she looked at me pointedly as I shifted, the unyielding crotch somewhat rubbing deliciously against my bundle of nerves, "with the _other_ item I requested you wear."

I blushed slightly at her words and greatly at the current expression on her face. It said she wanted dinner but nothing from the restaurants selections. Later, I would be more than happy to oblige. Thank Barbra for her sound-proofed room.

"I take that as a yes then. Good girl," she said, curling her mouth into a wicked smirk.

I stared at her lips, unable to match her eyes and she continued with the one sided conversation, reveling in the fact that my mouth was too dry to contribute. She leaned into my shoulder.

"How do they feel, Quinnie?"

I gulped visibly as I sought out more instruction. "What do you mean?" I asked in a voice I didn't recognize. It was small and unsure.

About that time, the waiter returned with refills on our waters. Setting them down in front of us, he assured us our meals were on their way.

_Ohmygod. Saved by the waiter, Fabray! Don't make eye contact with her. Maybe she will forget the question. And for fuck's sake, drink some water you puss!_

I reached for the newly replenished beverage to wet my throat and as the glass touched my lips, I heard Rachel say something against my ear that made no amount of water able to quench the dryness in my mouth.

"It's time to pay up, Quinnie…"

Instantly and simultaneously, I felt all the moisture in my body flood the newly purchased garment under my blue skirt and a wave of fear and arousal slice through my heart and abdomen. My eyes shot wide open as I became aware of the consequences of that statement and that the water that was asking entrance at my lips was now lightly trickling down my chin.

I spluttered clumsily against the clear liquid and in haste put the glass down, my hand resting flat against the table beside it. I looked up trying to recover and dabbed my napkin at the corner of my mouth trying to save face as my eyes darted to meet those of the distracted patrons.

Rachel fell easily into the role of doting girlfriend as she addressed me with mock concern, "Quinn, are you okay, baby?" Her smile was sickeningly sweet and her big doe eyes laughed at me.

"Uh-hhm, of course." I said trying desperately to swallow not only my embarrassment but any type of moisture I could use to fight against the dryness.

"Oh, thank goodness," she patted my arm and took up residence at my side once more.

_Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck fuck. She can't be serious. Please be joking._

I must have said that last part out loud because Rachel's voice immediately cut through my internal panicky rambling.

"Quinnie, you know I wouldn't joke about such things," she said evenly as she scooted her chair closer to me.

I noticed something in her lap that I assumed was her cell phone, however it wasn't bedazzled which struck me as odd. Leaving that thought, I prepared to brace myself to pay up. I was going to take my consequence like a woman, but only after a little bit of begging. I argued with my inner voice that maybe I could make it up to her later.

"Rachel, _please_." I gritted my teeth and let my eyes soak in the pure mortification that swelled in my brain. My heart was racing and it fueled my hissed pleading. "Please, baby, not here. Please? We're in public! I can pay up at ho—OH MY GOD!"

My hushed words soon cried out as the firm piece hidden between the fabric layers at my core vibrated vigorously. My right hand slammed down on the table, my back sat upright against the back of the chair, and my eyes clenched shut in their sockets as the ripples from the device stopped suddenly. I sat there dumbly as I sought frantically to put the pieces together. Somewhere in the back of my mind it registered that Rachel was sitting tightly against my shoulder. I blinked trying to connect the dots of my current surroundings—I was wearing vibrating panties, Rachel's body was as snug against mine as possible in public, people were now blatantly staring at us, and to top it off, our food was approaching the table.

Rachel sat back in her chair a bit as "Rob" set our food in front of us. I stared blankly at the sustenance that no longer held any appeal. My all-too-calm girlfriend thanked the boy who looked at me with a worried gaze. She saw it and replied loudly enough for all our onlookers to hear.

"Oh, sorry. Don't worry about her. She just found out that Barbra Streisand was forced to share her title as Best Actress for her role in 1968's critically acclaimed musical, _Funny Girl_. Damn that Katharine Hepburn!"

Rob's brow creased and with two quick side glances, he left in a hurry. As Rachel readied her place setting before her, she took her napkin in her lap. My eyes followed the movement, and I fixed them on the contraption on her right hip. It wasn't a freaking cell phone; it looked like a damn remote. _Shit, shit, shit. _She found her place next to me again and the heat she was radiating made my skin feel like a damn flambé dish. Leaning into me, she broke the awkwardness and sent everyone back to their own conversations.

"Quinn, sweetie, eat." She pointed at my plate. "You'll want to eat while it's still _hot_ and _moist._"

_Fuck my life._ I gathered as much stubbornness as I could and turned to her one more time.

"Rachel," I said firmly in a low tone, "Not here for Barbra's sake! There are too many people and we are in the middle of a popular eating establishment. Think about this. What are these people going to think?"

I kept a stern look etched in my face as I searched hers for understanding. There wasn't any to be found. Her eyes shone with an evil glint that made me want to die and come at the same time.

Holding her arm flush against mine, she whispered, looking up at me, "Now, naturally such proximity, gives rumors a rise."

"What are you even talking about?" I hissed angrily at her, knowing I would have to grovel my way out of the stubbornness later. We were still getting strange looks every once in awhile and it started grating on my nerves as I lifted my first bite into my mouth. _Bzzzzzzz_. The light humming that began again was masked by the ambient music of the restaurant as the foreign object down below offered its damn-too-pleasurable services to my clit. It stopped my worry over the unknowing voyeurs and snapped my attention to the increasing need that rushed to the affected area. I clamped down on the fork to save myself some embarrassment from the moan that was now rolling off my tongue. "MMMmmm…"

An exaggerated sound of approval rippled down my fork as I hoped our fellow diners associated it with the taste of the food I was currently trying to swallow. Not that anything at this restaurant was _that_ good.

Pleased as punch with herself, Rachel spoke to me quietly. "Is it good, Quinnie?"

"Y-yes, I mean, no… I mean…"

"It's a simple question, baby. Is it good? Yes?" she chuckled. "Or… no?"

She punctuated the latter with a clicked increase in speed of the vibrator pinned between the chair and my hooded bundle of nerves. Thank Cheesus, these chairs were padded or else I think it would've rattled like a Bumble ball on a hardwood floor.

"AA-agh, it's good. It's good."

She slowed it down to the previous setting and smiled widely. I gaped at her and for a moment considered seriously kicking her hard under the table. Noticing another of my outbursts, Rachel smiled at the audience we had gained because of it and went back to her plate. As she took another bite of her vegan pasta, she sang softly through her delicate chewing.

"We'll let them analyze, what our amalgamation implies…"

"OH YES!" I interjected as she intensified the vibration licking at my center. My eyes shut dramatically, and I forced the food from my utensil into my mouth, using the bite of bland food to hide my reaction to the frenzy in my core. I dropped the fork to the plate and grasped at the edge of the table with my left hand. My right shot down to Rachel's thigh and squeezed hard.

_Holy fuck. _I was behaving like I was straight out of that damn scene from _When Harry Met Sally._ The patrons around us were now clearly intrigued and quite uncomfortable the latter of to which I could relate. A thin layer of sweat covered my brow and the growing need of release found its familiar place in my lower abdomen. I steadied my shaky breathing and looked over at Rachel. She met my eyes and sang again.

"The gossips will press, so willing to stress…"

The tune she was humming earlier seemed amplified in my ears as the lyrics she sang now matched it. I turned my attention to the background music of the restaurant wondering if it was simply ringing in my ears or if in fact the track was actually playing. It was. The fucking restaurant was playing the fucking instrumental version of a fucking_ Funny Girl_ song_. _ _What is the name of that fucking song?_

"The seamy side—" She winked at me as I begrudgingly picked up my fork in an attempt to maintain some normalcy in my appearance. "Know what?" Another click from under the table.

"MMMmmm." I moaned as I tried to swallow whatever it was from my plate that I had just shoveled in my mouth. My poor fork became a hostage as my hand gripped it securely, my knuckles turning white. I wasn't going to last much longer and neither was the pronged metal. I tried to take another bite and focus on my chewing. It wasn't fucking helping.

"So what!" she sang and clicked again.

"Oh shit! Rachel!" I hissed. I had never been more simultaneously thankful for and irritated with background music in a restaurant. I'm sure the fellow customers would express their gratitude for the obnoxious musical track had they known the truth behind my overtly sexual outbursts.

"I want to be seen, be seen with you, with you on my arm…"

_There it was—in all its fucking glory_. I Want to be Seen with You Tonight. As was usual for the previous weekend, I felt like the last person to understand how it all fit together. Fucking Rob probably even knew. The tune began its second round of playing (no doubt arranged by Rachel), and I came to the realization that all of this was a set-up. She was dropping hints all night just as she had last weekend.

'_I still very much… want to be seen with you tonight.'_

'_Sweetie, with you on my arm, looking like that… Let's give this town a light, shall we?'_

And my personal favorite… _'and I can't help but think you're like glitter decorating my arm.'_

_You're so dense, Fabray!_

I was brought out of my internal chastising by the muffled click of the remote.

"OH, for the love of everything holy!" I blurted frantically.

The vibes from the offending device pulsed through me deliciously, and I valiantly tried to keep my hips from rocking back and forth in my seat. I was still in public after all and I refused to hump a chair like a wild beast. Opening my eyes again, I noticed that my dinner plate was taken from me and a perfect piece of apple pie sat waiting. Somewhere along the public spectacle of my impending orgasm, Rob had managed to swap my barely eaten entrée with a most delectable looking dessert. But, fuck, if I didn't care about the fucking apple pie. People around us were staring once more, especially a seemingly prudish old woman that wore nothing but a scowl since Rach and I walked in, so I said fuck her, too, and came up with an excuse for my rather embarrassing words.

"That's, uh, mmm… good looking pie."

"I Want to be Seen with You, Tonight" was making its second round to where Rachel left off, and I wondered how much more of the public torture I was going to have to take. On cue as expected, the goddess herself began again, quietly in my ear as I focused on the hot pie filling seeping from beneath the golden crust.

"Let's give this town a light…"

Suddenly the vibrations weren't a constant beat and began to assault me in waves of varied intensity. My eyes rolled back, and I couldn't stop the groan that tumbled over my open lips. Before I knew what was happening, a taste of apple pie found its home on my tongue. Surprised, I opened my eyes to see Rachel's lust-filled orbs locking with mine and her hand steadily taking the fork from my mouth. She was so turned on, I think she was in more agony than me. She was practically in my lap now and the hand that had once been squeezing her thigh had been meticulously and stealthily repositioned between her thighs. Once I realized this, the warmth that enveloped my hand transferred straight to the heat between my own legs.

_Finish me, please. _I begged silently through my blown pupils and as if she heard me, she nodded subtly.

"…and hit it like…"

"Mmmmm," I moaned out shamelessly as another bite of apple pie smothered my taste buds and the vibrator switched to a back-and-forth pulsing of what I assumed was the two highest levels. I was so close. "It's so good," I panted, swallowing the pie but regarding the tremors ripping through my core.

Rachel leaned in closer and kissed the shell of my ear, dragging her tongue over it under the cover of my hair. The sensation was just enough as she whispered the remaining lyrics.

"…a me-te-or-ITE..."

"Ohmygod!" I was fed another bite, swallowing it almost whole, as the explosions ignited burning fiercely and rippling from my center. I smashed my lips together in an effort to stop the profanities, but when Rachel reached the second syllable of 'tonight' a second wave of pleasure tore through me. I gripped the tablecloth and the denim found under my fingers and I let out a cry that was sure to take our dinner from PG to NC-17 in an instant. "Rachel… _fu-hmhph_!"

It took a moment for my brain to catch up with my now engaged lips. Rachel had leaned over and kissed me in order to save the restaurant-goers' ignorance. So at that very moment, we sat there lip-locked in the middle of a very crowded public dining establishment as my girlfriend kissed me through the after-effects of the orgasm she gave me from vibrating panties. It doesn't get much more fucked up than that.

When the last of my shivers faded, Rachel pulled away slightly, her forehead and nose still brushing mine. Her eyes fluttered open, hunger and want running rampant as they transfixed my own, and her breathing was labored and desperate when she finished the verse.

"I want to be seen with you…" She wanted me again. I could hear the need laced in her voice.

"Um, excuse me, ladies. I-Is everything okay over here?"

We left our bubble of desire and anticipation to turn and look at Rob. Poor guy—he had no idea what just happened at one of his tables. Still stunned into silence, Rachel took control of the situation and put her best show face on. It never ceased to amaze me how quickly she could fall into character.

"Oh, Rob, yes. My girlfriend, Quinn, here just absolutely _adores_ apple pie and yours, _Robbie_," she raised her eyebrows as she continued, "is the best in town."

'Robbie' blushed at the sentiment and nodded, shuffling a bit with his feet before responding. "I see. Eh-ehm," he cleared his throat and glanced between the both of us, "Then will there be anything else I can get you two this evening?"

With no hesitation, I blurted our response loudly. "No, Rob! Just the check!" Rachel's face whipped around to mine, scowling lightly. "Please." I added as an afterthought.

Seemingly pleased by the politeness at the end of my conversation with Rob and the diminishing stares we were receiving, my girlfriend drew closer and mumbled under her breath, "Hot."

When Rob returned with our check, we paid the bill in cash, being sure to leave our trooper of a waiter a hefty tip to compensate for our behavior. And as Rachel practically dragged me from the restaurant, I couldn't help but bend down to the elderly lady who watched Rachel and me with disgust the entire evening and whisper huskily, "I recommend the apple pie. It's orgasmic!"

**A/N #4: Coming up… Quinn realizes Rachel didn't get to finish the song. This should make "game night" very interesting in the Berry household…**


	8. IWtBSwYT  Intermission

**A/N #1: Sooo… did anyone else read the tweet by one Ms. Michele about watching **_**Funny Girl**_**? I could've died. I maybe did a little. Anyhoo, thanks so much for all of the favorites and story alerts and reviews and love… also angels. If you want to keep the love going and if you feel so moved, press the little Review button at the bottom of the page. If not, so be it… Enjoy!**

**A/N #2: WARNINGS: lots of swearing and public sexytimes, also torment. That is all.**

**A/N #3: I do not own these characters or **_**Funny Girl**_**. Sadly, all I own are mistakes.**

Chapter 4: _Funny Girl_ – Night Three

"I Want to Be Seen with You Tonight" – Intermission

"Fuck! Oh, Quinn…" Rachel moaned loudly as my fingers tightly traced 'I love you' over and over on her clit.

I tongued her neck and sucked firmly against the salty skin. We had made it about 20 steps from the door of the restaurant before Rachel pulled me around the side of the building. Apparently my public display with the apple pie (which again, I don't even like apples…) left her 'hungry' for more. Pun _totally_ intended. My hand quickly found its way into her skinny jeans. She growled in frustration at having the absolute tightest pants on that she owned. This wasn't part of her plan and it amused me slightly.

_Ha! Didn't think about that, did you, Berry? You thought you were sooo clev—_"AAah!"

The vibrations started again and my hand quickly jumbled the words I was fingering. From what I could tell, they now formed, "Ih lxotvwave ymobu." I was trying to edit my poor spelling when Rachel's voice cut through my thoughts low, irritated, and hungry.

"Wipe that damn smirk off of your face, Quinnie. Do not forget who's in charge here. Now, be a good girl and get me off, hmm."

As the 'hmm' left her lips, the waves stopped and it took me all of a second to resume my calculated ministrations. Rachel was panting in my ear as her hips met my hand rhythmically. I could tell from her frustrating sighs, she needed more, but her jeans wouldn't allow it. My inner HBIC (who lately had surprisingly become more of an interested spectator in my dealings with Rachel) was screaming at me. _What the fuck are you waiting for? Do something! That's your woman, you pussy!_

I scrambled to think what I could do to push her over the edge without thrusting deep inside her or worshipping her with my tongue.

_Oh, for fuck's sake! Here, let me do it..._

Before I realized what was happening, my teeth found her ear and I bit down, soothing the sting with my warm textured tongue and flushed lips. Rachel whimpered amidst her moaning, and my HBIC interpreted it as all the encouragement she needed to launch an outright dirty verbal attack on her.

"Shit, Rachel. Do you know how wet you're making me? How turned on I am that you can't get off without my fingers inside you or without my tongue stroking you? Look at you, desperate for what your body knows I could give you if only you hadn't worn those jeans…"

"Wha—" I licked at the skin beneath her ear. "Mmh, _pleas_…jus—"

"Not so articulate now, _hmm_? I don't know what you're asking of me, Rachel. You didn't expect to be so turned on by my public agony and humiliation, did you?"

Silence.

"Answer me, baby. Did you?"

Whimpering, then silence.

"I said, answer me, slut!"

Somewhere in the back of my mind, Rachel's bitch was mortified and frozen in place by the words spewing from my mouth. _We are in sooo much trouble later_. _Cheesus!_

"N-no, fuck you! Quinn, I-I… you… I didn—Fuck!" she spluttered fiercely.

My teeth bit down on the rim of her ear, harsher this time, and as I licked the afflicted skin, my HBIC continued.

"No, you didn't, Rachel. So now it's your turn to be a _good_ _girl_ and do something for me. Soon, my fingers are going to speed up what they're doing and when that happens, you're going to moan for me and say my name while you keep humping my hand like the _bitch_ you are."

_Oh shit_. At that,Rachel's head slammed back against the stone and her eyes shot open, pure fury and lust raging from them. My inner head bitch faltered momentarily at the intensity of the gaze and Rachel's bitch inside me sobbed out, '_Things were going so well, you fuckhead! We're dead now. Dead! Just dead._'

Already committed and refusing to back down, my currently possessed mind countered as I leaned forward, matching her glare.

"Don't look at me that way, Ms. Berry. If you want to come, tell me you understand me."

She was seething at this and her jaw tensed as she debated how badly she wanted to come versus how badly she wanted to put me back in my place. Taking advantage of her hesitation, I reinforced my demand by tugging her bottom lip between my teeth and biting firmly before sucking it with my lips and letting it slip from them with a pop. Pulling back, I noticed her heavy breathing and how her wide pupils seemed to pulse with her heartbeat. She swallowed visibly and hardened her icy glare.

"Yes, _Quinn_," she hissed meticulously through gritted teeth. _Oooooh, she was maaad_. "I understand."

"Good girl_, Rachie_."

_Fuck. You did not just say that!_ _Kill me now_. Wildly terrified and just as aroused, I searched her face for her reaction. Her eyes flashed with a venomous insanity, purely livid with my behavior. But despite my renegade dominance, the scenario seemed to excite her considering the gush of arousal now reaching my hand. I knew Rachel would torture me, especially after our little chat last weekend, but fuck her, if I wasn't going to make her come like this.

Her eyes closed exasperatingly, showing her clear aggravation from the situation in which she found herself. Giving in to the needs of her flesh, she began to follow my instructions as my fingers quickened their actions.

"Ohhhh, Quinn. Mmm…"

Her moans held a hidden petulance that eventually faded and soon held nothing but sincerity and need.

"That's it Rachel, feel my fingers on your clit. Imagine my tongue teasing your opening," I whispered as I brushed my tongue against her outer ear, "then, dipping past it as I would thrust it in and out of you." I mimicked the motion against her ear. "Think about my hand strumming your need, and how I would moan at your taste, the vibrations rolling through your hot, wet folds." I pressed my lips to the delicate spot where the center of her ear attached to the soft skin of her face and moaned shamelessly. The vibrations must have reached her core because her hips jerked forward of their own accord, signaling her approaching orgasm.

"Holy shit! Fuck, Quinn, ohh…"

I mentally patted myself on the back while my submissive alter ego shook her head with disgust.

"Come on, baby, you know you want it. Let it go. Come for me, Rachel. Say my name!"

"Ohmygod… QUIIINN!"

Her body tensed and shivered in waves as she gripped my sides roughly. I closed my eyes and allowed my lips to curl into an arrogant smile as Rachel's head dropped to my chest. (Against a wall with only my fingers on her clit and my words—not too bad, Fabray…) Her hands rested on my shoulders to lend support to her limp and trembling body. I stepped into her, bracing her against the brick wall. She was whimpering as she urged her body to recover.

"Shh, Rachel. I've got you, baby."

After another minute, I felt her muscles regain stature and her head slowly lifted. Painfully dull-witted due to the warm fuzzies of accomplishment, I missed the expression on Rachel's face as her eyes trained upward to meet mine. I blinked lazily, awaiting the sweet nothings that usually followed one of our intimate moments. However, when my eyes met hers, it only took a fraction of a second to realize that there wasn't anything sweet about the nothing that was coming from her lips. Hell hath no fury like that of one pissed off Rachel Berry. And let me tell you, she was _pissed_. Her brow was stern, set above pools of chocolate wrath; her lips drawn into a tight line as her jaw resumed its clenching ways. _Oh fucking shit_. _Happy now?_ My HBIC quickly backed down and whimpered as Rachel's bitch tried to brainstorm a way out of this one. I stumbled over the beginning of my plea for mercy.

"R-Rachel,…uh, baby,…I-I just…you were…I thought—"

Rachel raised a single finger to stop me before I did more damage, which made me truly thankful. Barbra knows I've already dug my own grave. I was already six feet under; it didn't need to be any deeper. My mouth shut like a trap and I stared blankly at the furious beauty in front of me. Her angry face leaned forward to mine and her heated breath washed across my lips as she whispered huskily.

"Not so articulate now, _hmm_? What's the matter, _Quinnie_? Cat got your tongue? It seems you had no problem expressing yourself moments ago. What was it you called me? 'Slut'? Or no, was it 'bitch'? Wait, I'm mistaken, there was another… what was it that you called me, Quinn?"

She was throwing all of my words back on me and they were heavy as hell. _Fucking shit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ My inner voice was whining and stomping its feet like a toddler in the candy aisle. I hated the idea of having to answer her, but I knew if I didn't, things would be a thousand times worse.

"Uh, I-I called, um… I—"

"Say it, Quinn! Say my name…"

"Rachie." It came out as a whisper from my downcast face, not daring to say it louder or to even look her in the eye. I knew my place; I just wish I had remembered it a few minutes ago.

"There it is," she spoke casually as if she had found a lost puzzle piece. She raised her hand and lifted my chin, bringing her other to brush back the hair that partially covered my face. "'Rachie,' huh? Tell me, Quinn, did you enjoy it?"

"Um, 'it'?"

My brow was forming a thin layer of sweat as I tried desperately to buy some time in forming an acceptable answer. The thing was, I could admit that I did and endure my punishment proudly, or I could deny it all the way to my grave and only revel in its satisfaction in secret. I wasn't sure which would be more pleasing to the volatile goddess asking the questions.

"Yes, Quinn, _it_—your little charade as the one who wears the pants in this relationship. Oh, you know what? As a matter of fact…" she smiled wickedly through her sarcastic tone, "you do… wear the _pants_, that is."

As she said the word 'pants,' I was nearly doubled over as the garment beneath my skirt seemed to vibrate at its full potential.

"AAGGHH…goddamnitfuckingcuntwhorefuck!"

I cried out in what I hoped would be an appeal, but my mouth had other plans, spewing a string of obscenities that even made my dominant girlfriend blush slightly. My hands instantly shot to my core in hopes of absorbing some of the harsh waves, only to be swatted away by Rachel's free hand. The other of her hands was holding the demon remote just in front of her face as she mockingly scanned the controls. I gripped the fabric of my skirt as I looked up, hoping to beg my way out having to endure the near abusive assault on my clit. It was one thing to work up to such a speed; it was quite another to face the attack without a little warm-up.

"Rachel, fuck! Please! Turn it—shit, turn it—fuck me, turn it off!"

"I'm sorry, Quinn, but I cannot acquiesce your request." (Leave it to Rachel to show off her superb vocabulary while she literally has me by the beaver.) "It seems that you have a new name for me, and it would be a shame not to address me as such. Now, be the _good girl_ I know you can be and ask me again. And this time, _Quinnie_, use the name you were so smug about earlier, would you?"

Rachel's voice was condescending and sweetly sarcastic. I breathed out heavily as I failed to get a grip on my situation. My mind was spinning almost as fast as the vibrations currently pounding against my center. I squeezed my thighs together to lessen the impact as my tongue, teeth and lips formed the response Rachel wanted.

"Please, fuck, _Rachie_, turn it—fucking hell—o-off!"

Suddenly the vibrations stopped, and Rachel swiftly had me pinned to the brick wall that earlier seemed my friend. Now, it felt a bit menacing scratching at my back. One of her hands braced against the wall beside my head, her other still holding that goddamn remote.

"Say it again, Quinnie."

With my eyes shut tightly, I panted out, "S-say what?"

"AAahhh!" The vibrations set off again, seemingly more intense than the last. Rachel's thigh was tight against my core and I tried to no avail to separate myself from the painfully satisfying contact.

"My name, Quinn. Say my name again!"

"Uhhh, Rachie!" The waves hit an all-time high as I literally thought I was going to take off! I was gripping at her shirt with one hand and scratching at the brick with the other, my feet scuffling beneath me as I tried to escape the over-stimulating but pleasurable torment.

"Just my name!"

"Rachie, Rachie…" I was reduced to whimper as I felt my body betray me, seeking out another orgasm. There was a vice grip in my lower abdomen that nearly burned as it held off my inevitable release. I didn't know whether to beat my HBIC explicitly or get down on my knees and thank her.

"Again!"

"Ra-achie…" My voice broke as I felt the grip loosen. Any moment, I was going to come again under the control of Ms. Rachel Berry and the thought transferred into a pooling slickness in my torturous panties.

"Again…" Rachel pressed even further into me as she slowly rolled the word off of her tongue with authority. Her hand left the brick and found my breast. She palmed it roughly, rolling my hardened nipple between her fingers. The movement left me speechless, overwhelmed with feeling.

"I said, _again_…"

One last increase on the dial and an unexpected pinch on my sensitive bud sent me over the edge as I 'acquiesced her request' in a rasp.

"_Raachie…_"

I threw my head back against the wall, and my body jerked almost violently as the speed of the vibrator softened its waves against me, allowing me to ride out my orgasm to its fullest. Rachel's arms caught me and held me upright as the rest of my body trembled. Soon, I relaxed into my girlfriend, thankful the punishment was over... or so I thought. I should've known better than to think this would be the end of it. That wasn't Rachel's style. Little did I know, this was only the beginning. I found out soon enough.

"Stand up, Quinn." Her voice was harsher than I expected and it unnerved me a bit in my fog.

"What?" I said hazily into her hair. "Rach, wait, just give me a minute and then we can go. FUUCCK!" The panties buzzed for a moment then stopped just as quickly.

"No, Quinn. Now."

I snapped my furrowed brow to meet her eyes. At once all of the relief from having paid my bet in full and enduring the punishment from my uncharacteristic outburst was gone. Poof! Her gaze was passionate and fueled and stern. I had really pissed her off. She stepped away from me, walking toward the car. Holding up the remote so that I could see it, her finger hovered over a button and she called back to me as she pressed it.

"Also, that's _not_ my name, Quinnie!"

"FUCK, Rach!" The vibrations intensified and this time my hand reached its target as I grasped at the undergarment. "AAGH, shit, I mean Rachie!" The stopped again and I steadied myself on the wall before glaring in the direction of my girlfriend as she sauntered away.

"Come along, Quinn! We can't possibly be late for game night."

_Fuck. This is not good._

**A/N #4: I had to collect some thoughts about game night so I gave you an intermission with a little bit of smut to hold you over… Now, be a good reader and leave me a review, would you? ;)**


	9. I Want to Be Seen with You Tonight Pt 2

**A/N #1: Wow, thanks for all of the reviews and alerts/favorites! You guys know how to make a girl smile. Anyway, this chapter took a completely different twist than what I was expecting, but I suppose you have to go where the words take you. If you feel so moved, press the little Review button below. If not, so be it… Enjoy!**

**A/N #2: WARNINGS: angry!Rachel, clueless!Fathers, and Barbra.**

**A/N #2: I do not own these characters or **_**Funny Girl**_**. Sadly, all I own are mistakes.**

The drive back to Rachel's proved to me once more that I needed to learn to keep my mouth shut. After opening the passenger door for her and closing her securely in the car, I practically ran to my door as to not keep her waiting. She was serious when she said that she didn't want to be late and as far as I'm concerned, I was already batting a thousand. I didn't need any more heat tonight, especially when we were to spend the rest of the evening at the Berrys' residence.

As I backed out of the parking space, I chanced a look to my right. Rachel was sending a text, no doubt to her fathers telling them we were on our way. She then put the phone away and stared straight ahead with a permanently raised eyebrow. I knew that look meant trouble—_so_ much trouble. I physically geared myself up for whatever the remainder of the evening would bring. We headed out of the parking lot and down the street. I kept glancing at my really pissed off girlfriend and against my better judgment, attempted some small talk.

"So, um, dinner was good, wasn't it, Rach?"

"…" Silence. _Shit_. Silence was not a reassuring sign that things would be okay.

"Uh, Rache—Oh shit!" I gripped the steering wheel and forced my eyes open to stay on the road ahead of me.

"That's. Not. My. Name. Quinn." She accentuated each word with a different click on the dial of her demon remote that instantly turned me into a quivering mess. _What the fuck? What was she talking abou—oh. Oh no…_

"Oh fuck, Rach! Sorry! _Rachie_!" The vibrations stopped and she turned and smiled at me. It was a genuine smile but it lacked the warmth she usually only reserved for me.

"That's a good girl. And to answer your question, yes, dinner was excellent. Although, I may need to speak with them about the stickiness of the pasta. While the sauce had a delightful flavor and a smooth texture, the pasta may have been slightly overcooked. Being one of the only vegan options they provide, it's imperative that they prepare it with the utmost quality in order to keep customers such as myself."

"I-I agree," I managed to mumble.

Something told me I wasn't going to like this new game she was playing. I found myself staring at her and trading glances with the devil remote that found a home on her thigh. She was leaving it there to say, "Oh, Quinnie, you silly girl. Don't you know what I can do to you?"

_Way to go, Fabray! If you could've just kept your mouth shut! We'd be out of these treacherously pleasurable panties, our bet would be fulfilled, and we'd be enjoying kicking some ass in a good game of _Sorry!_ But nooooo, you had to assert yourself as the big bad bitch and now look at where we are—cowering in the driver seat, praying to some unknown entity that she keeps her finger off the goddamn buttons! UUGGGHHH!_

Trying desperately to calm the panic within, I searched my brain for anything that I thought would be appropriate conversation.

"So game night, huh? Think there's any chance of you winning at _Sorry!_?" I chuckled nervously as I mentally face-palmed. _That's the best you could come up with? A lame question with a dig at how she NEVER wins? Who are you? I don't even know you anymore…_

Clearly Rachel was not impressed either. She slowly turned her head to look at me and furrowed her brow, her mouth slightly ajar and not in the hot, "I'm turned on" way, but in the "Did you seriously just ask me that?" way.

Her lips met and tensed as she tried to figure out why I thought this topic would give ease to the tension between us. And then, her lips curled into a scheming, vengeful smile. She dipped her hand and unclasped her seatbelt, sliding over toward me in one swift motion. I lost sight of the remote and very nearly the road as her movement placed me on high alert.

Soon I realized where she ended up. I felt her breast press firmly against my arm and I, in turn, gripped the steering wheel to keep from palming it. I could feel her nipple hard against my skin through her shirt and it further added to the wetness between my thighs. She leaned into me and a warm breath rolled over my cheek. Swallowing thickly, I blinked, trying to concentrate on the road.

"Wow, Quinnie," she spoke lowly and eloquently, "it would appear that you really have no clue as to the amount of trouble in which you find yourself." She chuckled dryly at this and continued, "I want you to know that I don't intend to forget your little stunt outside the restaurant, and what's even better about this is that I'm fairly certain you haven't yet figured out that your bet is not paid in full. So, taking these into consideration, I suggest you, in turn, focus on how you're going to survive our evening of '_Sorry!_'."

I sat in shock knowing she was in no way talking about the innocent game for children which involves playful banter and good-natured sarcasm. No, no, no. She was referring to the fact that I was dead. The '_Sorry!' _she was talking about had to do with begging and groveling and suffering and torment and… _wait_. _Did she just say the bet wasn't finished? What?_

Before I could catch myself, I blurted out my confusion. "Wait, what do you mean the bet isn't fulfilled? Rache—HOLY, SON-OF-A…Ohmygod!"

The waves began again. I squeezed my legs together to absorb some of the ripples, but it only helped some as I tried to regain my thoughts. The buzzing was mild, and I was only too thankful for the slight reprieve.

"Quinn, what did I say about my name?" she hissed sharply still at my ear.

"I mean, Rachie. _Rachie_, what did you mean about not having finished the bet?" My voice was shaky as the vibrations continued their gentle onslaught. "Three nights, three numbers… oh shit. I did all three. You… fuck, you made me do all three. Ohmygod… I mean, right?"

I was quickly losing my concentration, and I was grateful that we were only a few blocks from Rachel's house. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear the oncoming orgasmic haze from my mind and focus on the response to my question.

"Oh, Quinnie," she whispered as she increased the speed. _Damn it, she has that remote hidden—like a fucking Broadway ninja!_ "Sweetie, you see, if you were paying any attention, you would have realized that I only sang _half_ the song."

"Baby—Fuck me! Agh, Rachie, Rachie, I… wha—I mean…" the steady vibrations became sporadic and varied and if I had to be honest, felt sooo damn good. I would come soon and it wasn't helping my oral communication skills.

She saw my quickly diminishing resolve and replied sweetly, "What's the matter, baby? You seem a little confused, but don't worry, I'm sure things will be clear by the end of the night."

At that, she flicked the switch one more time and my body jerked forward at the steering wheel.

"Fu-uck meee…" I moaned out.

I gripped onto it hard as my eyes clenched shut and tremors racked my body. It was the third time I'd come tonight and each was seemingly taking more and more out of me. I panted against the dashboard as I willed my body to recover. Opening my eyes, I realized we were idling in front of Rachel's house. _How in the hell did I make it here? _Somewhere in the back of my mind, the HBIC called out, "_'Cause we're Quinn fucking Fabray, bad-ass driver extraodinaire!"_ _Shut up! Have you no memory of the flaming pile of 'Fuck, we're so screwed' that you landed us in tonight? Just, shut it!_

Rachel saved me from strangling my traitorous ego only to make me aware once more of my surroundings.

"Let's go in, shall we, Quinn? Mustn't keep my fathers waiting!"

"Rach—" I saw the immediate glint in her eye and corrected myself, "—ie, Rachie, um, am I supposed to, you know…" I gestured at the offensive garment beneath my skirt, wondering if she really, truly expected me to wear them while hanging out with her dads. I should've known the answer would be yes.

She raised her eyebrows, mocking confusion. "Why, whatever are you trying to say to me, Quinn? Now, be a good girl and _come_ along."

The stupid panties buzzed again when she said come, but stopped just as suddenly. _Fucking game night!_ I got out of the car and followed my she-devil. Oh how that woman enjoyed the control she had over me. We made our way into the house only to be met with a squeal from what we guessed was the kitchen.

"Daddy?" Rachel called. She looked at me and I shrugged.

We rounded the corner to the kitchen to be met with perhaps the cutest and quite possibly a most disturbing scene. Leroy Berry had his husband, Hiram, wrapped in the biggest bear hug from behind. Seeing as he was twice as big as the petite Jewish man, he held him off the ground with one of his arms while his free hand was attempting to wipe a dollop of cookie dough on his nose.

"Come on hon', you know you want to try some!" Leroy sing-songed.

Hiram was fighting with every ounce of his strength to keep him away while shrieking, "Leroy, no! I just finished my new honey-apricot exfoliating scrub. Do not—don't you do it! I'm warning you…"

"Or what, sweetheart? What are you going to do?" the larger Berry laughed.

"UGGHHH, Leroy Berry, you put me down this instant! I do not have the slightest qualm in withholding sex—"

"Aa-hemm." I cleared my throat loudly not wanting my girlfriend or her Jewish clone to die from embarrassment as both men froze.

"—tuplets."

Leroy dropped his husband and began busying himself with spooning dough onto the baking sheet. Hiram turned all of five shades of red before failing miserably at saving himself.

"Sextuplets, you know, uh, why anyone would want that many dicks—KIDS, I mean kids is beyond me. You know with all of the biting and screaming and oh my, I mean, hi there!"

Amused with the situation, I decided to throw the poor guy a bone and change the subject.

"Hello, Hiram. Hi, Leroy, what are you making?" I smiled, looking over at my still mortified girlfriend. _Serves her right!_

Leroy picked up on my redeeming effort for conversation and answered, "I'm whipping up a batch of the famous Berry sugar cookies. I thought that they would be an excellent addition to our family fun night! Wouldn't you say, my little star?"

Rachel stood catatonic as we tried to get her attention.

"Rachel?" Hiram tried.

"Rach, sweetie?" Leroy called.

"Huh, what?" Rachel shook herself out of her clear discomfort and looked at all three of us. Hiram looked on with concern while Leroy winked at me and we both chuckled softly.

"I said, don't you think our famous sugar cookies will be an excellent addition to our fun this evening."

"Oh, yes, of course. Those cookies are fabulous and nothing short of such." _Spoken like a true Berry_.

"So, girls, how was your evening?" Hiram asked, glancing between the two of us.

My face instantly flushed in reaction to the fire that ignited low in my belly. I blinked trying to get a hold on my reaction before Rachel could see the hot mess I was becoming. No. Such. Luck. Her eyes met mine and locked down on them, a wicked smirk, forming across her breathtaking face.

"Oh, daddies, I should let Quinn tell you," she answered not leaving my eyes.

She walked gracefully toward me with the prowess of a hunting lioness. (Get off my back—I just so happen to watch a lot of NatGeo. Sue me!) Trailing a finger across the back of my hand resting on the counter, she caused an involuntary shiver to race through me. I set my jaw and geared up to provide an answer only to revert back to a pile of mush at her next words.

"Tell them about the apple pie you had, _Quinnie_."

_Really? Fucking really, Rach?_

Luckily, Leroy chimed in disappointingly to our, unbeknownst to him, dirty recollection. "Oh, you mean you've already had dessert?"

I had never been so thankful for my girlfriend's totally aloof fathers. Still I forced a Fabray smile and dodged the bit about the apple pie with ease.

"Oh, don't be silly, Leroy! I always have room for sugar cookies. I have no idea how anyone could resist them. They're delicious!" I said with enthusiasm. Hoping to keep avoiding any questions about our evening, I continued, "So, what's on the agenda tonight? _Scrabble_, _Life_, _Scattegories_…"

"Perhaps, _Sorry!_..." Rachel interrupted me, clearly unhappy with the fact that I was deflecting to ensure my survival.

"Haha, no Rache—" Bzzzzz. My panties began softly strumming against my clit. I looked to Rachel for mercy but the determination in Rachel's eyes told me that I would receive none. "Aah! I mean, Rachie, I don't, um… I want to, fhew, uh, play something else."

"Quinn, are you okay?" Hiram noticed the glistening on my cheeks and the heat rising up from my neck. He reached to place his hand on my forehead, only to be met with air as I pulled away, gasping lightly.

"Uh sure, Hiram, just a-a little warm."

I fanned at the tinge on my face and quietly excused myself to the bathroom. As I turned to leave I caught Leroy mouthing to his husband, "Rachie?" Hiram shrugged it off as I left the kitchen. I made my way to the bathroom with the intent to take the still vibrating garment off. I would endure whatever punishment I had coming but I was sure as hell not going to let Rachel torment me in front of her—

"Quinnie? Are you okay in there, _sweetie_?" She said it in that high-pitched mockery she called her "Stick-it-to-the-man" voice. She planned to use it to say, "I told you so," to all of the people who told her she wouldn't accomplish everything she wanted. One might say she was using it appropriately here.

"Uh, yes, baby—Rachie!" I cried as the material under my fingertips moved more intensely. The fabric was hooked around my knees when the door suddenly opened. "Shit!"

"Hmm… what are doing, Quinn? I know you aren't thinking of taking those off, _are you_? She gave me a stern, pointed look, and I bit my lip in response.

I looked like a deer in the headlights of a really, really dangerous-looking, sexy, vegan Mack truck. _Fuck my life. Fuck it all to Funny Girl hell._

I slid the panties up painfully and shook my head slowly. Once they were back in place, she smiled at me and grabbed my hand, leading out of the bathroom. I seriously wanted to cry. The panties didn't stop their waves as we walked into the kitchen. I dropped Rachel's hand and she turned to question the action.

"I-I just need a drink of water. I'll be in there in a minute." I smiled to let her know that I wasn't going to try anything and she nodded, leaving me alone to regain my composure. _How in the fuck am I going to make it through a game? Okay, Fabray, you can do this. She clearly wants to get a reaction out of you. Game Plan: First, always, always call her Rachie. Good, second, give her subtle reactions. You have to be in control, Quinn. Let's do this_.

I filled a glass with water and made my way into the family room that uncharacteristically sported dim lights. _This isn't typical game night lighting. What the hell?_ I took two more steps before I registered the music in the background. I snapped my eyes to the flat screen in the corner only to have Barbra greet me with, "Hello, gorgeous."

My eyes went wide and I nearly dropped my glass of water. _No, no, no! She can't be fucking serious! With her dads in the room? She's fucking crazy!_ I whipped my head around to glare at my clearly crazy girlfriend. She met my eyes triumphantly and quirked her eyebrow as that evil grin settled on her face once more.

"Oh, Quinn, you're back! Here, have a seat. Rach told us that you were having a craving for Barbra and that you just didn't want to say anything! Now, that's just nonsense! You know we Berrys have a thing for Barbra!" Hiram giggled. "Isn't that right, Leroy?"

Leroy rolled his eyes only to immediately nod forcefully as Hiram looked to him. He bulged his eyes at me and shrugged behind his husbands back.

_Please, Leroy! Object! You hate musicals! Oh, for the love of my sanity, someone do something! _It appeared my silent pleas went unheard as the father figures turned their attention to the movie playing on in front of them. _Maybe I'm over-reacting. Surely, Rachel would not allow this to happen. Give her the benefit of the doubt. She loves me enough to not do this._ I looked to Rachel once again and she beckoned me with her finger. I smiled at her, hoping to draw out some compassion, but she turned her head to face the enigma that was Barbra. I sat down next to Rachel on the loveseat and she threw the blanket over our laps. This entire time, I still had the steady vibration that was making me weak. At that moment, I was incredibly happy the Berrys had surround sound. I was sure it would be needed, especially when Rachel leaned into me and whispered huskily in my ear, "It's time to pay up, Quinnie…"

**A/N #4: Please don't hate me… ;)**


	10. Finale

**A/N #1: I do not own these characters or **_**Funny Girl**_**. Sadly, all I own are mistakes.**

**A/N #2: If you feel so moved, press the little Review button at the bottom. If not, so be it… Enjoy.**

**WARNINGS: Plot monster, sexy times, and Barbra.**

I let out a shaky breath and clenched my eyes shut as Rachel's lips brushed over the delicate skin of my ear, only to have another hot breath purr, "Open your eyes, Quinnie. Barbra demands your attention."

My stomach quivered, flip-flopping at the pure sex dripping from Rachel's lips. She slowly leaned back with that damned smirk I knew so well. She was toying with me, teasing to make her point. And that point being? I was Rachel Berry's bitch.

There I sat, body trembling, hands shaking, clit throbbing, in the middle of her family room, not seven feet from her fathers, wearing _fucking_ vibrating panties all the while watching _Funny Girl_. _Could this night get any—_

"Ah!" I involuntarily blurted as Rachel increased the steady wave between my legs.

Leroy and Hiram jumped at my interjection and looked to me with concern.

"Quinn, honey, are you alright? Are you sure you're feeling okay?" Hiram asked.

"No—Ah! I mean, yes." Rachel increased the wave to a pulse and I blinked rapidly to clear the fog. "I, uh, just love this part."

Both men glanced at the screen and back to me, casting curious stares in my direction. I chanced a peek at the screen and realized that the movie scene held no memorable or outstanding significance. I chuckled nervously as the older Berrys reluctantly returned their attention to the screen.

_Shit. Shit. Double shit. _

With her dads once again preoccupied, I whipped my head around to glare at Rachel. She _had_ to know how close to crazy this was. If we were caught, there would be no good explanation.

"_What? Why am I crying out in ecstasy? Um, Barbra does something to me?"_

"_What buzzing? I just think Barbra is sizzling—electric even!"_

"_Why am I begging in front of your daughter and moaning her name over and over? Oh I don't know… maybe because she has me wearing fucking vibrating panties and she's using that damn remote to bring me to my umpteenth orgasm in the same goddamn room as her parents!" Fuck!_

I stared at the conniving beauty that was causing my orgasmic conundrum. She cast a downward glance at my lap, and, then, without warning, turned her eyes upward and locked mine in place. I felt the air leave my lungs and in that moment, I froze. Still as stone. Held suspended as though this was the first time I really _saw_ her. Her lips were parted and gently panting; her throat and cheeks were flushed with life; and her eyes… her eyes were bright and fierce with passion, but, at the same time, delicately laced with every bit of love she had for me. I finally saw in her eyes what I felt my whole heart screaming when I looked at her.

_My god. She's beautiful… and she's mine._

It was then that everything around me dropped off. It reminded me of those cheesy scenes in movies where two characters were held in their own bubble while the rest of the world went on around them. Nothing else mattered right then. I didn't care about my impending orgasm or that demon remote. I didn't care about the fact that her fathers were in the room or about the bet that got me into this mess. And I definitely didn't care about the attention I should've been giving Barbra. The only thought in my mind…

_She's beautiful. _

Rachel blinked and tilted her head, searching my eyes. My breathing increased as I recognized a shift in her expression. She softened and her rich mocha eyes shone in the flickering light from the movie. A warm smile tugged at the edges of her lips, and she ducked her head shyly. I realized at that moment she knew what I had been thinking.

Feeling a bit insecure, I shifted my gaze down toward my now fidgeting hands, breaking the spell I was under, and my awareness of the pulsing between my thighs came back with a vengeance. Desperately trying to avert my attention and simultaneously hide my vulnerability, I set my eyes on the screen.

In less than a few moments later, warmth spread over my anxious fingers as I realized Rachel had taken my hand. The vibrations stopped as her fingers threaded through mine. At the gesture, my body physically relaxed and slumped into the cushion behind me. I was unsure of the reason behind my halted torture and I eyed Rachel cautiously.

_What is going on? _

Curiosity won out, and I hesitantly leaned into Rachel, whispering, "Um, Rache—I mean, uh, Rachie, what's going on? What are you doing?"

She smiled softly and whispered against my ear, "It's Rachel, and… you're beautiful, too, Quinn. Now, watch Barbra and hush."

Her thumb continued to trace lazy circles on the back of my hand, causing a shiver to race through me. I smiled to myself as Rachel's head rested against my collar bone, and my heart leapt at the scent of her so close to me.

As the show went on, my tension eased until the opening notes of my bet's big finale began. My muscles stiffened and Rachel lifted from my embrace. A knowing, seductive smile stretched across her face, and I was instantly wet. Or wet, again. Still wet?

_Fuck, it's like I'm conditioned. Seriously… can we say Pavlov's dogs?_

Rachel glanced toward her fathers and saw that both of them were content to cuddle, Hiram mouthing the words as Leroy looked on in complete adoration for the small Jewish man leaning against him. She turned toward me and nodded in the direction of the stairs. Before I knew what was happening, Rachel was pulling me up from the couch and leading me out of the family room.

"Dad, Daddy? Quinn and I are going to bed. Quinn is falling asleep and she has to get up early to return home for breakfast with her mother."

Too wrapped up in each other the Berry men wished us a goodnight and sweet dreams, not once bothering to question the fact that I didn't have an overnight bag or the fact that they hadn't approved our impromptu sleepover.

I shook my head lightly and giggled to myself. _Oh, how I love these men._

As we reached the bottom stair, just out of view of the family room, Rachel turned on heel and covered my lips with hers. My knees buckled under the intensity of her lips as my hands circled her lower back in an effort to hang on. Raw want pulsed loudly in my ears, allowing only the slightest awareness of a thump as something was dropped in the potted plant at my left.

Not giving one damn about it, I hungrily palmed Rachel's ass and lifted her against me. She gasped, pulling her lips from mine, and instinctively wrapped her legs around my waist.

_Holy shit. This is fucking hot!_ My inner HBIC was pleading for more as Rachel's eyes shifted back and forth between mine, begging me not to stop.

Using a strength I didn't know I still had, I managed to gracefully (_and very quickly, I might add_) carry Rachel up the stairs. I stopped just outside her room and pressed her into the door at her back. She groaned when I pushed firmly between her legs.

"Shit, Q, you feel so _fucking_ good," Rachel whispered, drawing a moan from my throat as she rolled her hips against my abs.

Her movements spurred me on, and I opened the door behind her. She dropped to her feet and grabbed my hand, pulling me into her room.

"On the bed now, Quinnie." _Fuck me, she has the sexiest voice._

I didn't need to be told twice as she turned to lock us in her sound-proof room. I sat down on the edge of the bed and watched as Rachel slowly faced me. She leaned back against her door, resting her hands behind the small of her back. Looking briefly to the floor, she blinked, and returned her eyes to mine.

The fire I saw there sent another surge of moisture to my already soaked core. Long-forgotten was the pair of vibrating panties, the apple pie, the silicon appendages, and the paddles. Right then, in that moment, we were just us—no games or gimmick. Rachel was in charge, and I was happy to follow her anywhere.

"Quinnie," she started, as she turned off the light and cocked her smile, "it's time to pay up."

_Yes, please. _"With pleasure…" I breathed as she pushed off the door. I was mesmerized. Rachel walked toward me at an agonizingly slow speed.

My inner selves grew impatient. _Fuck. Please, hurry! _I wanted her on me. I wanted me on her. Hell, I just wanted.

She smiled fully as she came into the moonlight from the window. Glancing into it, she quietly sang, "The moon over mother's saloon…Have a nice macaroon." There was a playfulness in her voice and she chuckled softly as she wiggled her hips. "I'll buy you a light beer."

I laughed, singing back at her, "Right, dear."

She started toward me again, her eyes never leaving mine. And when she reached me, she bent at her waist and leaned into me, placing her hands on either side of my hips. Overwhelmed by the arousal lack of air between us, I pulled back, and she followed. I was panting as I reached the headboard, watching as she slinked up the bed.

I swallowed thickly when she stopped, hovered over my body. Her lips brushed my ear and my inner HBIC stammered.

_Goddamn. Now I know why we like being the bottom_.

_I told you…_ my submissive replied smugly.

"Quinnie, I need your help with something," she whispered.

A shiver raced through me and I wet my lips. "Anything," I choked out desperately.

"Well, you see, the last part of our song for this evening, calls for two people to sing." She finished her statement with a flick of her tongue against my ear.

"Ohh… whatever you want. It's… I'll do whatever you want."

"That's my good girl." Pulling back to meet my gaze, she directed me, "Leave the lyrics up to me, and you _sing_ as loudly as you need to…"

_Holy. Fuck. _I vaguely heard a voice in the back of my mind warning me about the fact that Rachel's parents were in the same house, but I couldn't bring myself to feel even a bit apprehensive about what we were about to do. I was so open for her, willing and wet.

She flicked her tongue over the soft flesh of my lips and suddenly realized I was already close to coming.

"Please, Rachel, I want—"

"To be seen, be seen with you… "

She took my hands, pulling me to sit up straight. Her fingertips traced my palms and my forearms where she dropped them to the hem of my shirt. Skimming the skin just under the fabric, my sides quivered and she smiled that sexy smile at my reaction.

"With you on my arm," she sang again.

Her fingers curled and slowly lifted the shirt over my head, the backs of her knuckles brushing along each inch of skin as they passed. When she reached around and unclasped my bra, I smiled as my eyes slid shut. But Rachel was having none of that.

Her nails raked down my back firmly, ripping my eyes open. "Ah!"

Taking advantage of my shock, slight pain, and heavy arousal, Rachel managed to melt my insides when she spoke lowly, "Eyes open, Quinnie. Keep your eyes open."

I gasped as her rich pools of chocolate locked on my darkened hazel. _So that's how we're going to play it. Fucking hot._

I watched as Rachel kissed her way across the tops of my breasts. Her teeth grazed my nipple and she sucked hard, taking the bud into her warm, wet mouth.

"Fuck, Rachel."

She smiled into her kisses and dragged her tongue along my chest. Rachel's lips continued their assault as they slid down the flat of my stomach, her eyes still loyally trained on mine. Her tongue and lips worshipped my skin and she sank her teeth into the tensing muscle.

"Christ, Q, you're so _fucking_ delicious."

I moaned loudly as her palm flattened against my abs and she eased me down on my back. I kept my eyes on her and watched as her head lowered again and I felt her velvety tongue dip into my bellybutton.

"Yes, Rachel. So good. Let—"

I intended to say, "Let me touch you, too," but she cut me off again.

"Let's give this town a light…"

Her right hand skimmed my thigh as it pushed my skirt to my waist. She sat up and knelt between my legs, never losing eye contact with me.

_Her fucking eyes. Those will be the end of us tonight._ It seemed all of my inner voices were in agreement.

I felt fingers pulling on the demon panties, and in one swift movement, they were tossed off with a clunk, somewhere in the dark room as she sang, "And hit it like a meteorite!"

I smiled at her punctuality for the lyrics. She met my smile and raised me an eyebrow.

Kneeling over me again, Rachel looked at me deeply and grew serious. I couldn't help but stare at her beauty and scream in my mind, "I love you!" I was interrupted by her lips opening.

"Quinnie, when you looked at me tonight…" she started, and I didn't have to ask her what she was talking about, "you were thinking I was beautiful, weren't you?"

Her voice was even, but there was still a vulnerability to it. I regarded her for a moment as moisture gathered against the corners of my eyes. In an attempt to hide the insecurity I felt about my utter and desperate need for her, I looked away and choked down a swallow. Blinking to stop the tears, I only nodded, hoping she wouldn't press. No such luck.

"Q, you're crying. What is it, sweetheart? You've told me plenty of times that you think I'm beautiful…"

I met her eyes again as she brought up her thumb to wipe my cheek. I didn't answer—only looked at her with every bit of emotion I could gather. I wanted her to know how devastated and lost I would be without her, how much I loved her, but my voice couldn't manage the words.

Rachel searched my eyes and after a few long moments, spoke again softly.

"There's more to it than that, isn't there? What else were you thinking, Quinn? Tell me… please."

It wasn't a request. It was a demand. I didn't know how to deny her, so I gave in, completely.

"I'm so in love with you. I…," my breath hitched, "I just can't believe you're mine."

As my sentence finished, Rachel's lips were on me again and her eyes captivated mine, this time fueled by much more than teenage hormones. I was drowning with my eyes open. She held my gaze as her lips seemed to smolder against mine, burning me with every bit of feeling she had.

As she kept our mouths hotly melded, her hand smoothed over my shoulder and along the side of my breast and her thumb raked over my sensitive bud. She continued her path across my stomach to the bunched up skirt at my waist.

Thinking she wanted me to take it off, I pulled my lips from hers and tried to push up to grant her wish. Her hand returned to my shoulder and stopped my movement.

"Uh-uh, Quinnie. Leave it on. It's my favorite."

Her voice sounded like sex in the morning—raspy and wanting. It made me want her more.

I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and kissed her hard. She met every touch of my lips and tongue and teeth as her hips rolled into mine.

"Rachel," I managed between breaths, "_please_…"

Rachel broke away and panted across my face. It smelled sweet, puffing warm and desperate on my overheated skin. Something about it was so erotic. I was afraid I was going to come before she even touched me.

She must have sensed how close to the edge I was because she shifted then, moving down my chest and abs, dragging her tongue all the way. When the velvety muscle found my bellybutton once again, I moaned loudly as my eyes rolled back and shut.

Rachel's teeth sunk into the soft of my belly and I jerked to meet her gaze.

Slowly, she shook her head and sang, "Tonight—I want to be seen with…"

I kept my eyes fixed on her as her tongue dropped below the bunched up blue fabric and licked lower. Her eyebrow cocked confidently with the first swipe into my arousal.

_Oh, fuck! _"Oh-h, please—"

Rachel interrupted me. "Let me be seen with…"

Her mouth covered my bundle of nerves, sucking gently as her tongue flicked over me. My hips pumped into her rhythm as she realized I wouldn't take long.

I tilted my head back and whimpered, "So good, Rachel. Fuck yes."

At the loss of eye contact, her teeth scraped the outside of my clit and she plunged two fingers deep inside me.

"Holy shit!" My eyes sprung open and I willed myself to keep them on her.

"And I would like to be seen with…"

Her fingers slid back and forth inside of me, curling and thrusting at a steadily increasing pace. She flicked her tongue along my slit and fluttered it against my need.

"Ohmygod, Rach. I'm so close! Please don't stop…don't stop." I was nearly there.

"Let me hear, you, Quinnie."

I felt her tongue flatten against me and her fingers curl deep inside me. My eyes narrowed in on hers and the look in them sent me over. _Those fucking eyes. _My body convulsed under her, tightening around her mouth and fingers.

"Rachel! Oh, fuck, Rachel!"

She gently lapped her tongue until my entire body collapsed against the bed.

"Oh Rach, come up here. I-Just… fuck, please," I breathed as I reached for her.

Sliding her soaked fingers from me, Rachel crawled up and rested her chin on my chest. She smiled shyly. I looked down at her and not giving one damn about my previous insecurities, blurted, "I love you."

She dipped her eyes down and replied quietly, "I love you, too."

I continued, not wanting to waste my post-orgasm courage. "No, look at me, Rachel. I love you with everything that I am. You're it for me—you always will be."

Rachel blinked blankly at me for what seemed like an eternity. I wondered if she knew what I was implying by that last statement, and I began to panic.

_Fuck, Fabray, why did you say that? You've totally freaked her out!_

Seeming to realize she hadn't responded, Rachel shook her head to clear her daze and opened her mouth to say something.

I almost used the opportunity to spew my apologies, when I stopped myself. _No, screw this. I meant every word and damn it, it's time she knew that I wanted her… for good._

I waited as she appeared to be arguing with herself. Without saying a word, Rachel nodded once, sat up, and made her way out of bed.

_Genius, Fabray. Now look what you and your feelings have done!_ My inner bitch was appalled at the events before us.

I laid still as Rachel walked to her dresser and opened the top drawer. I was almost certain she was pulling away from me. Why else wouldn't she say something?

When she was finished with the drawer, she shut it, spun around, and placed her hands behind her back. Walking hesitantly back to the bed, she kneeled on the side and looked down at me with an emotion I couldn't decipher.

She was nervous? Unsure? _What the hell is she thinking?_

"Rachel?"

Before I asked anything else, she brought her hand around from behind her back. In it was a simple black velvet box. She laid it on my stomach and stared at it, swallowing with difficulty.

I traded looks between the box and her face several times.

_What is that? Is that for me? That's not… no, she wouldn't. Would she? Did I want her to?_ In all the questions that rattled through my brain, the only thing I heard was a resounding _Yes!_

Rachel kept her eyes on the box and watched as my hand wavered above it. I picked up the box and sat up slowly. Rachel shifted and finally looked at me. I didn't have to open it to know what was inside. Her eyes confirmed it.

I turned once more to the box and lifted the lid carefully. Inside was a delicate, thin silver band topped with a small, but tasteful single diamond. My fingertips ghosted over it and my body felt warm. I lifted my eyes to her and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Rachel?" I questioned. I wanted to know what this meant. Did I possibly have a place in her future?

"Quinn… I… You… I want _our_ future, Quinn. I don't want _you_ to be in _my_ future or _me_ to be in _yours_. I want the future before us to be _ours_. I can't picture Broadway without you there. I can't picture holidays or vacations where you're not with me. I can't imagine not waking up with you in _our_ bed or reading _our_ newspaper on a lazy Sunday morning over _our_ coffee—well, tea for me." She smiled. "I really hope you meant what you said about me being it for you and always being it for you. I love you, Quinn, and in _our_ future, I hope you'll be my wife…" She finished softly, "I want to be seen with you…"

I stared openly at her as she rolled her lip between her teeth again. Her eyes shifted, trying to read me. My tears started welling and large, wet drops flowed down my cheeks. Rachel looked at me with regret, clearly misunderstanding the emotion behind them.

Without wanting to wait one more second, I lunged for her, box forgotten on the bed. She shrieked as I pushed her on her back beneath me. I smiled widely as the tears kept streaming and Rachel's face was the epitome of confusion.

"Q, I don't underst—"

I silenced her with my lips and she kissed me back with feeling.

Pulling away from her, I bored into her rich, mocha shining eyes and sang softly, "I want to be seen with you."

"Does that mean…Quinn, are you saying…?"

"Yes, baby. I want our future, too. I love you."

Rachel pulled me down into her lips and as our mouths caressed each other, I imagined our future together—lazy movie nights, crazy bets, wild nights with the toy box, singing, demon panties, more singing, teasing, apple pie, game nights, and Broadway, but most of all love… and Barbra.

**A/N: Epilogue, coming soon, kids…**


	11. Epilogue

**A/N #1: Thanks to those who waited on me to get it together… This is dedicated to you. A special thanks to all those who reviewed and followed. You make me smile.**

**A/N #2: WARNINGS – fluffy times turn sexy times, Quinn is at NYU instead of Yale-meaning she's in NY, possible sequel?**

**A/N #3: If you feel so moved, click the Review link at the bottom…If not, so be it. Enjoy!**

**A/N #4: I do not own **_**Glee**_** or any of these characters. Sadly, all I own are mistakes.**

_One year later…_

"Rach? Sweetie?" I tossed my keys onto the table just inside the door of our single bedroom apartment and set my book bag on the floor. Classes had dismissed for spring break and I was looking forward to spending some quality time with my very soon-to-be wife. _Sexy "quality" time… especially after I gave her the surprise I had in my pocket…_

"Baby!" Rachel exited the kitchen and tackled me, sending both of us up and over the arm of our overstuffed couch.

"Umph! Oh-h, ow," I laughed. "Damn, Rach. Excited to see me?"

She smiled down at me and pecked my lips firmly. "Language, Quinn, and yes, ecstatic."

I rolled my eyes at her chastising. _She's got a mouth like a fucking sailor… _ Before I got myself in trouble, I quickly redirected my thoughts.

"So what do I owe the pleasure of such an 'enthusiastic' hello?"

"What?" she replied, doe-eyed. "Can't I _just_ be excited that you're home?" She finished her question with her adorable lip pout and her hand slid up my arm, dragging her nails lightly across my skin. I knew that pout—it was playful and it meant only one thing... She wanted something and she would get it.

I dropped my eyes to Rachel's fingertips that were drawing lazy patterns against the exposed skin at the V of my shirt. She bent down and touched the tip of her tongue—her super-talented tongue—to my chest. Not wanting to give her the satisfaction of me caving just yet. I played along.

"Really? How excited are you?" I asked, my voice low and challenging.

"Oh, Quinnie, you have no idea how excited I am," she husked.

I shuddered under her at the raw prowess in her voice and the way she said, 'Quinnie.' _Yup, definitely not giving in… yet._

"I was so _excited_, in fact, that I had to calm myself down while I was waiting for you… _twice_." Her smirk bore down on me with heat and wanting.

_Holy fuck. Is she serious? She can't be serious. Damn, look at her eyes. She is serious._

Wanting the very hot details, I choked out, "How did you calm yourself down?"

"Now, Quinnie, what have I told you about asking silly questions? I'm _sure_ you can use your imagination." She punctuated 'imagination' with a flick of her tongue across my bottom lip. Then she continued, "I was just so happy that we would be spending the whole week together… alone… in our own apartment… with no interruptions… and no neighbors."

I shut my eyes as I envisioned all I would get to do to her this week; they clenched tighter when I thought about all she would do to me. _Let's see…should we start with the toy box or some sweet vanilla loving? In the bedroom? Or maybe on the kitchen table…_

Rachel's sharp tug on my nipple through my shirt brought me back. She smiled softly.

"Plus," she said in a sickly and enticingly sweet voice, "I just want to enjoy the company of my intelligent, beautiful, witty, sexy, sweet, awesome—"

I stopped her before I gagged. "Okay, okay, what do you want? You may as well just tell me…" I shook my head, while looking into her now smiling eyes.

"Okay," she started with a mega-watt smile, "so, you know that old revival theater I've been wanting to visit?"

I nodded. I suddenly realized where she was going with this. I had seen a flyer at school. They were showing a Babs' Spring Break marathon. Starting Sunday evening, the theater would play a 36-hour marathon of some of Barbra's most memorable films. Figuring Rachel would absolutely love this, I stopped at the theater. I had planned on surprising her with the tickets that were currently in my pocket.

"_Cheesus, you sap! You are so whipped!" _My HBIC had taunted me the whole way home.

Rachel's bitch bit back, "_I don't seem to recall you complaining two nights ago when Rachel's tongue was between our legs!"_

It had been _so _good. Rachel had laid me out completely naked and had used only her warm, wet mouth for what seemed like hours teasing and licking and sucking me, bringing me so close and then slowing down, working me over until—

Rachel's voice interrupted my thoughts from that night. _Fuck me, I'm wet._

"Well…" she drew out her introduction, no doubt, to add dramatic effect, as she continued. With her voice distant in my ears, I squirmed, turning my thoughts back to my memory from two nights ago and her teasing from just then, "…starting Saturday."

_Wait. What? _I blinked away my distraction and gave her a puzzled look. _What did she say? Saturday?_ I thought back to what I read on the flyer and the date on the tickets. _I thought it was Sunday…_

"Q, are you listening? Did you hear me?"

I replied quickly, "Yeah. Yeah, I did. But… what did you say?"

"Ugh!" She let out an exasperated grunt and sat up, straddling my thighs. "You weren't even listening!"

"No, I was. Rachel, I was." I grabbed her hand and kissed it. "I just meant what day did you say?"

"Saturday," she said matter-of-factly.

I pinched my eyebrows together still trying to remember if it was Saturday or Sunday. No, it was Sunday. I was sure of it.

"I, I think it was Sunday, Rach. I saw a poster at school and I'm pretty sure that's what it said."

"No, Quinn. I'm certain Barbra's marathon starts on Saturday. It's Barbra," and to prove her next point, she leaned down and nipped at my throat just under jaw. "I think I'm the expert when it comes to all things Streisand. Wouldn't you say," she paused, then breathed, "Quinnie?"

Her lips pressed against my ear and continued lower as I shifted her leg between mine and began rocking into her. I moved my hands expertly up her thighs to her waist, and in one quick movement, hooked my leg around hers and flipped her onto her back with me over the top of her.

She gasped and her pulse immediately quickened. I pinned her arms above her head and straddled her hips. She was surprised and the shock and arousal that shone on her face fueled my courage.

I put on my cocky smirk and bent slowly toward those panting lips. Searching her wanting eyes, I cocked an eyebrow and whispered thickly, "Wanna bet?"

**A/N #5: What do you think, friends? One more wager?**


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